


Waiting for the Sun

by kt_vundr



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Angst, Divorce, Domestic, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to past Squall/Rinoa, References to past Zell/Seifer, Slow Burn, Smut, Squall has that good kingdom hearts hair now, Torture, does anyone even ship this but me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2020-04-23 02:29:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 74,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19141756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kt_vundr/pseuds/kt_vundr
Summary: A messy divorce, a violent kidnapping, an assassination attempt, and a poorly-timed sexual identity crisis. These are the ingredients that make up Squall Leonhart’s awful luck.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I haven’t written fanfic in a long time but this has been bouncing around in my head for a while so here it is, please be kind. A few notes about timing: in my mind, the events of the game take at least half a year and Squall was 18 when it ended. Rinoa ascended to true Sorceress fame and married Squall pretty shortly after. They were together for just over a year before it fell apart. Now, Squall is 20. Hope that makes sense. Enjoy!

The briefing room felt sterile. Chair too stiff, lights too bright. Everything too flat, like the air wasn’t moving and the color had been dimmed to a greyscale. Not the red of her eyes though. She’d been crying. The other didn’t cry as much but this one was taking it hard. Like this was her fault. 

It wasn’t, Squall knew.

It was his. 

“State your name for the record please.”

The girl fidgeted in her seat. And she was a girl. She was only 16. “Cadet Mazie Ozland, hand to hand specialist.”

_ “Repeat: This is Cadet Ozland, we are....heavy fire....requesting immediate... unexpected - !” Bouts of crackling static. The sickening sound of rattling gunfire. _

Words blurred out of focus as he stared at the report. It didn’t matter. He’d read it so many times he knew it by heart now.

“Could you please give us a summary of the events leading up to the attack?”

_“GET DOWN!” Zell’s voice carried over the noise. An explosion scrambled the connection. The room went silent and Squall felt cold._

They hadn’t been expecting any kind of real conflict. It should have been routine. A diplomatic trip to Galbadia Garden with Zell’s top two hand-to-hand students. The program was a joint study initiative, with a group of select students from both Gardens sharing skills and training together over a weekend to build relationships between future leaders. It was a project he and Martine had been willing to give a try, to foster union and cooperation between Gardens. No one was supposed to go missing. “When we got off the train at Timber, there was some kind of commotion and we were approached by a large group of soldiers. Men in green... I didn’t recognize their uniform. They wanted something from us. I couldn’t hear what Mr. Dincht told them but they didn’t like it and everything happened so fast. We drew them out of the city to avoid civilian casualties...”

_ The connection crackled. “Commander,”  Zell grunted, voice rough and tight. Squall remembered how to breathe. “I’m sending them north. They’ll find cover in the woods while I distract the enemy.”_

“How many?” Quistis asked. “What did they want?” 

There was a pen on the desk. Red ink. He capped and uncapped it a few times. Trying to whittle away at the anxiety making a heavy home in his lungs. 

_“Backup is on the way. Can you hold?”_

Click. Pop. Click.  

_“It’s too hot. I can’t risk it, Commander.” A breath. “Squall.” A pause. “They’re aiming for me. I don’t think they’d chase the kids down. The least I can do is get them out.”_

“...then he told us to run, so I got Felix - I mean, Cadet Winters - I got him up and we ran. When we got to the cover of the woods, I looked through the trees but no one gave chase. Then, I followed protocol and administered emergency first aid.” Her voice broke around the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry. We should have stayed. We should have - “

_You would have done the same thing, a traitorous voice whispered in his skull. “That’s unacceptable. Find another way.”_

Squall held up a hand. It took a tremendous effort. “Enough. You were overwhelmed. You followed orders.”

_“Selphie’s ready with a team in the Ragnarok,” Quistis said quietly behind him. There were too many people breathing down his neck. There had to be a way to fix this, he just needed the space to think._

_ “There’s not another way,Squall, I have to  \- “  A scream. “Felix, cover the left side!”_

_ “I can’t cast!” _

“You’ve been a huge help, Mazie,” Xu said soothingly. The girl nodded and wiped her nose with a tissue. From the look on her face, Quistis was waiting for him to say something else. But what? Squall gripped the desk to ground himself.

_What would make this better?_

“Yes. Thank you. Dismissed.”

The silence that fell when Xu walked her out was deafening. It wasn’t until Quistis laid a hand on his shoulder that he finally flinched and came back to life. “They’re young and too valuable to lose. Zell made the right choice,” she offered uselessly. It didn’t do anything to improve his mood.

“They’re almost the same age that we were.” 

She frowned at that. “And we vowed to do better by them. Remember?” 

He gave her a poisonous look that she met unflinchingly. She was one of the few people in the world who wouldn’t back off when he said to. And that was why she had been the natural choice for his second in command. Sometimes he still kicked himself for that decision. Adjusting her glasses on her thin nose, Quistis sighed. “This isn’t your fault, Squall.” 

 “Don’t fucking waste my time with that.”

“When you’ve calmed down,” she snapped, “we can discuss this further.”

He pushed the heels of his palms against his eyes. This was day three of this migraine. “Whatever.”

Quistis gathered up her notes. There was something sympathetic about the slouch of her shoulders. Squall reminded himself she wasn’t the enemy here. “Nida is waiting for you on the bridge. He has some ideas for our search.” 

His chair scraped loudly as he stood and stalked off with hunched shoulders and an angry tick in his jaw. Students has been politely avoiding him before but now groups bent anxiously around him like the cold winds of his stormy mood were blowing them back by force. Which was fine by him. Squall knew what he looked like when he scowled; no one needed to tell him what a terror he was. If it kept people out of his way, that was fine by him.

He punched the button a little too hard and ground his teeth together as the elevator ascended. It was the moments of stillness he couldn’t stand anymore. Not after the divorce. And definitely not after this.

The door slid open and Squall took a moment to look around for Nida. The man had an uncanny ability to sneak around unnoticed until he wanted to be and Squall was absolutely not in the mood for that today. He found Balamb’s navigator leaning back against the wall and staring at the map from a distance, lips pursed in thought. Trying to see a bigger picture. 

“Quistis said you have something?” It came out harsher than he meant it to. Nida made a face.

“She dumped you off on me in this kind of mood? Not cool.”

Narrowly resisting the urge to strangle him, Squall clenched his jaw. “Is that a no?”

“It’s not a no.” Nida sat down at the map’s controls and punched in a few commands. Several colored strips of light appeared. “It’s too much of a yes.” 

Squall eyed the pathways critically. “So it’s basically nothing. If we don’t have a concrete direction, it’s nothing.” 

“Not exactly. There are only so many paths a force like that could have taken without someone noticing. In absence of any reports in the area matching the description, these are my best guesses regarding direction until we get more information coming in. Someone is going to see them eventually. It’s a start.”

“Seven directions isn’t a start.”

“It’s the best we’ve got right now. We can narrow it down if we think a little harder.”

Not what he wanted to hear. There was no time to keep waiting. Three days with nothing useful already. They could already be too late. “ _Think harder then_. And send this to me.” 

“Yes, sir.” A pause. “Squall, look - “

“Don’t start. Not you too. I won’t have it.”

Months of that fucking tone had set him on edge. That ‘Squall, I’m sorry, insert something empathetic’ tone. Months of everyone walking on eggshells around their heartbroken commander, feeling _so_ _sorry_ , and just when that was finally calming down, there was this mess to deal with. Zell was his right-hand man, so now it was the pity again. ‘Squall, I’m sorry life isn’t what you hoped, I’m sorry you’re so lonely, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ 

Nida, who was apparently the only one with any kind of sense on this whole fucking team, just nodded. “Understood, sir. I’ll page you when I’ve got something more.”

“Thank you.” Squall tried to smile but it felt more like a grimace. “Whatever it takes.”

_Where are you?_

It was reasonable to assume whoever had taken him knew who Zell was. The papers had a field day parading their names and pictures across their front pages: the kids who saved the world. Many hadn’t known the true extent of threat at the time, and for the first few months after the story was told, Squall and the others had found something close to celebrity. He suspected Laguna and his very clever new pen name had a hand in that. _(Archie P. Lagos. Laguna must have laughed himself sick about that one.)_  There had probably been a good intention buried in it somewhere. But with Rinoa’s ascension ceremonies and then the wedding on top of it all, that extra spotlight had made Squall’s life exponentially more uncomfortable. Squall was decidedly not made for the public eye. The pressure was suffocating. All he wanted was to do his job and go outside without someone judging the way his hair was parted.

So was this for renown? The fame of capturing one of the world’s best soldiers? Should they expect a call demanding a ransom?  And if they had targeted Zell for that, any one of them could be at risk. 

Nothing could slow down for one fucking minute.

Guilt gnawed away at him until he was sure his pacing would wear a trench into the floor of his office. There was a dark feeling in him that wouldn’t let him rest. Because he should have been there too. And that really drove the knife.

_Knuckles rapped on the desk. “Good morning, sunshine.” Zell’s grin was too blinding for this early in the morning. Or was it late? Squall squinted at the clock but his eyes wouldn’t focus yet. When had he fallen asleep? “Whatcha doin’ drooling on your desk?”_

_“I don’t drool.” Do I? Don’t check._

_He checked._

_Zell snorted. “Made you look.” He ruffled Squall’s hair fondly. “You look like a baby bird.”_

_Squall swatted his hands away and sat up a little. “Did you actually need something or are you just here to bother me?”_

_“Wanted to talk to you about tomorrow actually.” Tomorrow? Hell. Squall scrubbed a hand over his face. He’d been so laser focused on semester scorecards he had forgotten to pack. “I’ve got some ideas for the trip.”_

_There was a sharp ache in his neck where his muscles were complaining about his carelessness. Nothing that a nice long bumpy train ride wouldn’t make worse. Squall made a mental note to stretch later. “Yeah?”_

_“Yeah.” Zell set a cup of coffee down and scooted it in Squall’s direction. Steam rose from the wonderful black gold and the blessed smell was enough to clear out some of the cobwebs. It tasted even better. “My idea is that you don’t go.”_

_“That’s a stupid idea.”_

_“It’s actually great and I’m brilliant,” Zell chided. “Look, you’re running on fumes. And you’re never gonna ask anyone to slow down so I’ll do it for you.” There was a determined set to the man’s jaw. One of those ‘argue at your own peril’ looks. Unfortunately for him, Squall was an arguer._

_“We’ve been planning this for months, Zell. If I don’t show up, Martine will take it as a slight. You know how he is.”_

_Perched on the edge of the desk, Zell looked too tall. “I do, which is why my plan is perfect. Because!” He lowered his voice conspiratorially. “I have a hunch he’s not gonna show up either.”_

_Squall blinked. “I’m sorry?”_

_“Okay, so Selphie heard from Irvine who heard from a friend of his at Galbadia who’s sister’s best friend’s tutor - who I actually think we met the last time we were  - “_

_“Zell.”_

_“Right. Apparently Martine got a call the other night from Caraway about some contract they’ve got running in Deling. Rumor is that he wants to handle it personally. Because it’s not going well. And that he’s thinking about sending a delegate in his place to our little educational weekend.”_

_Squall scowled. “And when was he planning to tell me that?”_

_“He probably didn’t want to seem rude and was worried you would take it as a slight because he knows how you are.” His sidelong glance was a little smug._

_“So. Beat him at his own game then. Neither of us show up.”_

_Zell picked up Squall’s mug and took a sip for himself, lips curling in a pleased smile around the ceramic. They’d grown closer since the war ended; first because they discovered they were working through the same kinds of nightmares, and then because Zell was genuinely pretty funny when he wasn’t flying off the walls, and then because Zell didn’t let Squall shut himself away too long and Squall felt a strange kind of relief knowing after the divorce he wouldn’t be allowed to slip back into the old lonely misery he was so vulnerable to._

_Still, he wondered briefly when the idea of sharing cups stopped bothering him._

_“Yep.” Zell popped off the desk and bounced from foot to foot restlessly. With as energized as he was on a normal day, he didn’t need the caffeine. He liked the taste though. “Nobody looks bad, no hard feelings. You get to stay home and I bribe Quistis to make sure you actually sleep in a bed while I’m gone.”_

_“You don’t have to worry about me,” Squall’s gaze landed on the pile of paperwork he’d been slaving over. It was almost too tall to see over. “I’m fine. I mean it.”_

_The thing that made Squall craziest was everyone treating him like glass. As if the ring was the only thing holding the pieces of him together and now that he took it off he must be so fragile he would blow away in the next breeze. The concern felt smothering. Zell had been the least irritating offender, careful not to hover too much, but there was still worry shadowing the blue of his eyes._

_“Buuuuuullshit, but sure.”_

_“You’re not supposed to talk to your boss like that.”_

_“What are you gonna do, write me up?” Zell flashed that bright smile again. “Then my master plan would be bust and you’d have to leave your baby.” He patted the paper stack._

_“I just don’t think - “_

_“Come oooooon, Squall. I got this. When have I ever let you down?”_

_..._

_That_ _was a very good point._

_Squall sighed, resigned to his fate. “Fine. Play nice with the kids.”_

_“Alright!” Zell wiggled happily. “It’ll be great! I’ll bring you back a souvenir. Real stylish. Maybe something that says, ‘my best friend went to Galbadia and all I got was this lousy t-shirt’.”_

_Squall regretted the decision immediately._

_But then Zell threw a wink over his shoulder as he sauntered out of the room and Squall forgot what he’d been thinking about before._

There was a hand waving in front of his face. Squall blinked. The student’s eyes were cartoonishly wide. “Commander? Are you alright?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Squall barked. “What?”

“Sir, m-message for you, sir! H-have a nice day!” He scampered out like a mouse escaping the claws of an angry cat. Squall looked down at the paper that had been shoved into his hands. It was in Selphie’s handwriting.

_‘Zell’s mom called. Didn’t know how much I was allowed to say. She’s heartbroken. Please give her a call.’_

This was going to be a week from hell. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing playlist: Where I Live - Woodkid


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter update this time, but should be able to update again very soon. Thanks for the love so far! Appropriately posting a chapter about losing freedom on Independence Day. Happy reading!

_Squall was scowling._

_It was that special kind of Squall Scowl that pinched his brows together and pulled the corners of his mouth into a tight line. Where his brain filled with thick black rain clouds and he went somewhere unhappy. Zell wondered exactly where that was this time. He had a general idea, of course. They had talked about it, after the fact. The nightmares. The trauma. Kadowaki and her psych team had a field day the weeks after the war was over. But Squall had taken the worst of it. And now with Rinoa out of the picture, it was like he had locked the doors and shut off all the lights. Which made him a little unbearable to be around sometimes._

_Like now, for example._

_“Hey, you good?” Zell whispered as their mark paced past the window for what felt like the fiftieth time. Quistis was pushing through a noisy crowd on her way upstairs for a “chance” encounter with the leader of a resistance group that had been causing some trouble in the darker corners of Dollet. The city had become a breeding ground for post-war extremism, with cries for blood on the lips of roughened soldiers in whom the war hadn’t really ended yet. The Dukedom finally sent a request for SeeD when they heard plans of a rally at the pub downtown on the anniversary of the day the Galbadian occupation had begun._

_It must have been a deep concern because their contract was hefty. Zell hasn’t seen that many zeroes in a while._

_He hadn’t expected Squall to come personally though. The last few months had found him bunkered down in his office running things from afar. The monotony of paperwork would have driven him insane within the space of ten seconds but Squall found some kind of peace in it. The big time jobs were given to what Zell liked to call the Squall Squad: Quistis, Selphie, and himself. And after the year he’d had, Zell didn’t blame the man for sitting things out. The shoving people away again thing was irritating though._

_“Yes.” Like a chunk of ice, it spit hard between his teeth. Zell gave him a look._

_“Yeah, cool. Someone who doesn’t know you might even believe that.”_

_Squall said nothing to that._

_“Hold on, Q. He’s talking to someone,” Zell peered through his binoculars again. The mark was gesturing animatedly with a phone cradled between his cheek and his shoulder. Zell already didn’t like this guy. He had a neck tattoo. Which, as anyone who dared start Zell on this subject knew, was much different and less cool than a face tattoo and was instead very tacky._

_“Tell me when,” Her voice was muffled by the sounds around her. It was getting a little rowdy. Quistis could handle herself but she was in there alone and Zell didn’t like it._

_“Hell, does this guy ever shut up?”_

_Next to him, Squall shifted. Somehow the scowl deepened. “It’s not... never mind.”_

_Woah. That was almost a whole sentence._

_“It’s not what?”_

_“...”_

_“Squall, - “_

_“It’s not anything. Just a lot on my mind.”_

_The mark ended his call. Squall gave Quistis the signal to move in._

_“Do you ever sit around and think about nothing sometimes?” Zell asked. “Just to give yourself a break?”_

_Squall snorted. “Does that actually help?”_

_Sometimes,_ he had said. 

Sometimes it did.

Zell thought about nothing a lot these days. With a capital N. Nothing (trademark). Because thinking about Something (trademark) had gotten him into trouble the first week (two weeks? three?) of being here. Something (trademark) made him ache and burn and there wasn’t time for that. He had to stay strong. He had to find a way out.

There was a routine to this place, which was a small comfort at least. Routine made the days feel like days and not like one endless stretch of meaningless time. Long bouts of emptiness punctuated by routine like clockwork: fitful rest, desperate Nothing, and a woman in heels and her burly friends popping in to bother him.

Maybe ‘bother’ was a gentle word for it. Whatever. Semantics.

Most of the day, he hung from the wrists like a science project. The tubes hooked into his back really completed the whole mad science lair aesthetic. He’d mouthed off a lot about that the first few days, before one of those beefy friends clocked him in the teeth so hard they felt loose. ‘It would be better if you didn’t talk so much’, he had said, and boy did they grab the wrong guy for  _that_ . 

Still, the cold liquid flowing through his tired veins had gotten heavier. Harder to resist. His stomach had emptied out a while ago but whatever they were filling him with was keeping him alive. Sometimes, late at night when the place got cold and dark and homesickness made him dizzy, Zell thought maybe that was an unfortunate thing. But then the routine started again and he shook it off and steeled himself for another day of survival.

Another day of Test Dummy Fun.

Today, the woman was wearing black. She always wore black. Bright green cuffs adorned her wrists and a pen rested delicately behind the curve of her ear. Something to kill with, Zell logged. He kept a mental count of all the things he could use to fight his way out.

(As his muscles atrophied day after long day, the list grew upsettingly shorter.)

Her favorite goons were with her today too, as usual. Big Ugly (as Zell had affectionately labeled the older man with the horse teeth) stared him down as Weasel (the one Zell thought looked like something you’d find in a Deling gutter) slid a helmet over his skull. It was something to read brain waves, and something to shock him with. They were always thorough when they put it on. Lower, fit, tighten. More. Too much. The hours were one long headache.

Then came the questions. The electrocution. The prodding. They wanted to incite a reaction. Something he couldn’t control. Something desperate and wild.

Which meant they were trying to shake the GF out. 

They didn’t talk much about their plans in front of him. Too smart for that. Not prone to long-winded villainous monologuing (was anyone these days? He missed that.) But the process was clear. Even drugged, Zell understood what it was they wanted from him, even if he wasn’t sure why. There was a hefty catalogue of useful information tucked away safely in a room in the back of his mind and he put Quetzalcoatl inside and locked the door.

It didn’t matter why they wanted it. He’d die before he gave them anything.

The process of the Balamb summons was a mystery to a lot of the world. And largely, they were a mystery to Balamb, too. Even after digging through Cid’s records, there was still a giant question mark about how much damage housing those powers could really do to the brain. After the war, when they actually had time to worry about it, Squall was dangerously unhappy with that. Between the lot of them, there were huge bits of memories missing. Things they didn’t know if they’d ever really get back. 

When they junctioned for the first time they hadn’t know what they’d lose and that wasn’t fair. (Nothing about their lives were, but hey. Hindsight.) So Balamb’s new leadership had made a promise to study the GF before giving that terrible gift to the next generation.

And apparently they weren’t the only ones interested. 

But that still gave him nothing to work with.

Because, like... It was one thing to be a prisoner of war, right? Sides were clearly established. You knew who your enemy was. You knew what they wanted, what they were capable of. But it was another thing entirely to be the prisoner of an enemy you didn’t know existed. An enemy whose intentions were completely unknown. Panic had edged his mind so long he felt a little feral and every train of thought he chased crashed into a spectacular dead end. 

There were no answers to be found yet. He simply didn’t know enough. And his mind felt like a bag of wet cats; heavy and miserable and clawing for anything close to freedom.

“Feeling well, Mr. Dincht?”

She had a tone like warm venom pouring over crushed glass. Like the others, she hadn’t told him her name, but he didn’t get too hung up on that detail because she probably never would, even if she was the more talkative of the bunch. He had nicknamed her Wretched Fucking Doctor Terrorist.

Terry for short.

“Peachy,” Zell slurred through fake enthusiasm. He stomped down that prickling feeling he got every time they said his name. Which, okay, it wasn’t like his identity was exactly a secret anymore, but they knew things about him they shouldn’t. When they took him, they had clearly known he would be traveling; the day, the time, the train. They knew about his family. His friends.

And the kids? Had they gotten them too? His heart clenched painfully at the idea they were going through this same thing somewhere down the hall and  _you’re not supposed to be thinking about that, idiot._

Zell clenched his teeth. How did Squall brood all day and still function the way he did? Hyne, it was exhausting even for a minute.

Terry leaned close and searched Zell’s face and he came back to reality. Time to focus. Back to Nothing. “Lots on your mind today?”

He couldn’t really shrug with the way his arms hung. Made his shoulders too tired. “Mind? I have no mind. I’m the village idiot.”

She sneered. It made her nose look somehow more hooked. Hell, he hated her guts. Making her snap was easy though, and it distracted her for at least a minute or two. Bought him some time to get himself together.

“Again.”

The shock drove down his spine like a runaway train hurtling toward a cliff.  _Broken track that way,_  he wanted to tell the imaginary passengers.  _You’re going to die_.

Something felt wrong about today. More than usual. Fragmented and out of order. The conversation was twisting in on itself like an ouroboros and he couldn’t tell where it ended or began. Either he was (blessedly) heavily dissociating or his brain was finally turning to soup. Hard to tell.

The uncomfortable flutter of magic in his stomach shook him to his senses. Not today. Carefully, Zell let his feet slide out from under him just enough to put more strain on one of his shoulders. With a sickening ache, the muscle tore. The pain was blinding and he honed in on the feeling. He could focus on that instead of the lightning racing through his mind, begging to get out. 

Wickedly unhappy, Terry barked at her goons and they lifted him back into place. A chill passed through him as she upped his dose. Slowly, uncomfortably, he could feel the muscle weaving back together. But it wasn’t set right. The damage was done, and healed like this it might become permanent. 

Which was a fucking  awful thought.

It followed him into the depths of a dark pool of unconsciousness, where he sank like a heavy stone. Just like the last time. And the time before that. He always ended up here.

But it still felt different.

It was so cold. 

Was this _it_?

No, couldn’t be.

There was something waiting at the bottom. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing playlist: Nothing’s Burning - Télépopmusik


	3. Chapter 3

It made him kind of sick what a chickenshit he was. 

Selphie had gone to talk to Ma. Because Squall couldn’t handle it. He’d sent her with an escort and someone to leave behind to keep an eye on Zell’s mom until they got this all sorted out. 

Because Zell would kill him dead if he let anything happen to her. 

It was better he didn’t go, Squall convinced himself. He had never been great at comfort and that went tenfold lately. There was a curse on his head that made him say the wrong thing at the very worst times. So naturally Selphie had been the best choice. She and Zell were close too. It wouldn’t hurt Ma to see her instead of him. 

Not more than she would already be hurting. 

Time rolled unforgivingly on. 

Come week five, they had run through every lead they had (and pulled on some ridiculously implausible threads) and came to absolutely nothing fruitful. Quistis had tried broaching the possible death scenario with him and Squall nearly frothed at the mouth raging at her. Failure wasn’t an option here. Absolutely not at all.

And even if they ended up finding his cold corpse somewhere, Squall would bring him home. 

He tried not to think about that much though. It sent his stomach into a twisted mess and they needed him fully operational. 

Quistis had also mentioned talking to Kadowaki about the anxiety. Again. Which meant the next time she brought it up, she wouldn’t be asking. 

It was getting in the way. She knew that. He knew that. Everyone knew that. The guilt was gnawing away at him like a parasite and it wasn’t getting better.

_The bedroom door burst open so suddenly that Squall’s hand was half way to his gunblade before his eyes settled on a very determined looking Zell standing in the doorway. Arms folded. Unwavering expression. This was a man on a mission._

_As his heart rate slowed, Squall made a mental tally on his ‘how many times Zell gives me a heart attack’ board. Right now, the number sat at 5 for the week._

_It was Monday._

_“We’re taking a holiday.”_

_Squall glared over the rim of his reading glasses. “Go back out and knock.”    
_

_ “Are you serious.” _

_“Yes.”_

_Zell gestured frustratedly. Tried to start a sentence a couple times. Then, gave up and stormed back out into the hall. The door closed soundly behind him. A few seconds passed. Then, a sharp knock._

_“Come in,” Squall said pleasantly._

_Zell burst through the door again, a tidal wave of energy. “We’re taking a holiday.”_

_Definitely not what he needed right now. Sighing, Squall pinched the bridge of his nose. “Who is?”_

_“You and me.” Zell crossed the room and leaned forward against the bed frame. There was an excited flush creeping up his neck. “You haven’t left Garden in days. And I don’t think you even slept last night.”_

_That... wasn’t entirely true. He dozed off for a couple minutes. That still counted. But Quistis had kicked him out of the office and it was easier to think if he could see everything, so he’d spread his papers out on his bed and once he had them perfect he didn’t want to move them again, so he couldn’t sleep until this was done._

_“And don’t even get me started on when the last time you had fun was.”_

_Squall wasn’t dumb. He was fully aware he was distracting himself from the looming and rapidly approaching anniversary and all the messy and uncomfortable feelings that came with it, but better to be busy than be useless with leftover anxiety. Right? That’s what a reasonable person would do._

_“This is fun. I’m having fun.”_

_“Dude. If that wasn’t a lie it would be so sad I’d actually cry for you.”_

_As they became more like ‘real friends’ and less like people who had to tolerate each other because of the job, Zell had started doing an irritating thing where he saw past the deflection. Which was probably where this was coming from. Everyone else was giving him space like he wanted, but Zell liked to remind him of the difference between what he wanted and what he actually needed and it was annoying. Maybe a little bit endearing. But no, mostly annoying._

_“And where would we go?” Squall said, humoring him for a minute. It didn’t matter. The answer was no. There was too much to do._

_But..._

_“Wouldn’t have to be far. We could head down to Balamb Town, I know Ma would love to have you over. Maybe we could hit the beach. Do some training. Make a sand castle? I don’t know, dumb young people shit.” Zell grinned. “It’ll be fun. Get your mind off things.”_

_Things._

_Maybe it would. Maybe he’d have a fantastic time with one of his best friends and ignore the ringless finger that kept staring at him._

_Or maybe he wouldn’t be able to escape when he wanted to and have to sit through the tight anxiety forming a lump in his throat and pretend he could have a good time in spite of it. He didn’t know. And that made the decision easy._

_Just because he was miserable didn’t mean everyone else had to be._

_“I’ve got so much to do, Zell.”_

_There was a pleading edge to Zell’s voice. “And I know all of it can wait for a day. We’re not at war, Squall. Just one day. Please? No one’s gonna yell at you for taking a night off.” He stood up straight and saluted. “Besides. You’re in charge. I don’t think anyone can yell at you.”_

_On the contrary, Squall could think of a list of people who would yell at him if he didn’t take a day off. It was a long list._

_A memory nagged in the back of his mind. ‘You’re no fun today. All you want to do is work. Come take a day with me. I miss you. Can’t you see?’_

_She had yelled too._

_Was he doomed to disappoint everyone forever?_

_His chest hurt. “I’m sorry. I just can’t.”_

_Zell seemed to deflate. “Okay. Yeah. Forget it, you’re right, I know you have a lot going on.” He was trying not to sound as massively disappointed as he clearly felt. That made Squall’s chest hurt too._

_He clenched his jaw._

_“Rain check?”_

_Zell’s head shot up and a smile bloomed bright and wild across his lips. He was absolutely glowing and Squall wondered what it felt like to swing moods that fast.  
_

_“You mean it? No take backs.” When Squall nodded, Zell’s fist shot up in the air. “Alright!! I’m gonna hold you to that. You won’t regret it!”_

Squall rolled over in bed and squeezed his eyes shut.

Sometimes he wished he could pick the memories the GF took. Offer them up like a sacrifice with a polite plea:  _here, please take this, it hurts too much to keep._

Then, he threw the tangled sheets off and sat up. Sleep wouldn’t come. He slipped some shoes on and grabbed his gunblade. Slicing something in half would have to do. 

The school was quiet this late. A curfew was in full effect. They were taking absolutely no chances. 

Quistis had agreed to take on Zell’s course load for the time being so his students wouldn’t fall behind in his absence. This was only his second semester as an instructor, and getting him to agree to teach at all had been a beast of a task. But there was no other candidate half as qualified for the self-defense and unarmed combat courses and Balamb prided itself on the excellence of its professors. 

Zell had a very nurturing style; he was encouraging and honest and incredible at building up a fighter’s confidence. Squall had sat in on a few of his classes and it took him no time at all to win the kids over.

The progress the first-years were making was like night and day.

(Through a lopsided grin, he had fondly called Zell ‘Instructor Dincht’ exactly once before he got hit. The bruise lingered for days.) 

He took his time warming up, working until sweat clung to his brow and he wasn’t thinking anymore. Until his weapon was an extension of himself. Combat was a better therapist than anything. It didn’t make him explain himself. It just let him be. 

Frustration made his palms itch as he finally stepped into the training grounds and carved a bloody path through the first wave with ease. The muscles of his arms burned as he swung. He was good at this. It wasn’t often that he lost a fight anymore and there was security in that. Safety. 

Making his way farther back, Squall wanted something with more bite. He didn’t know how much time had passed until he finally found what he was looking for, but adrenaline exploded in his stomach and the weight in his hands felt vengeful as his wish came rampaging toward him: three beasts with horns and claws and mouths that slackened and roared. 

Perfect.

When he was younger, a fight like this might have made him sweat. Now, there was faith in the thrust of the blade. Trust. Maybe a little mania. But that was between him and the thing rearing up to swipe a massive lumbering arm at his face. 

Squall ducked sideways but its claws tore through the meat of his forearm. Breath hissed past his lips and there was a cold wind stirring inside him. His back hit the ground hard and he rolled just enough to avoid being trampled. Then in a swift motion, he tilted the point of the blade upward as the fiend barreled over him, opening its guts up like a butcher. It collapsed half on top of him and he shoved it off quickly, pushing to his feet to dive at the burly shape of the next one. 

The familiar pressure of the oncoming summon built in his skull and every piece of him felt elevated, like his body could float off the ground. He threw a hand out instinctively and the room filled with a flash of ethereal light. Then, the tension released in a spray of snow. He convulsed. 

The moment of blissful suspension in the summon was something he could never truly describe to someone who had never experienced it. A serene sort of calm overtook his senses. It felt like his body was a puppet and someone else was pulling the strings. He was weightless as he watched her move, as gracefully deathly as an avalanche. Head pounding, heart slowing, reality slipping away. Each GF felt like something different, at least in his experience. Shiva was the dizziness of waking up suddenly after a very long sleep. Quetzalcoatl felt like chewing on a battery. Ifrit was a peeling sunburn

They all had their preferences. Some GFs stuck better than others. And trading junctions was rough on the body, especially after a long time together. He and Zell had traded Shiva and Quetzacoatl a few times back in their cadet days and every time Squall had been sick for hours. The acidic taste didn’t go away for a week. Chalk it up to personality, body type, mental state, whatever. Sometimes there were incompatibilities.

Quistis had described it once like wearing a pair of new shoes; you could break them in but sometimes the fit would never be completely right.

Shiva sprang forth from the ground, breaking free of her frozen tomb. In a tranquil silence, Squall shivered as she blasted the last of the beasts. Their thick bodies shattered like chunks of glass.

What happened next would have been a lot more alarming if he was in his right mind. 

He braced himself for the dizziness of the summon’s end but the feeling didn’t come. Instead, time seemed to stop. Squall looked around. Took a step. Exhaled. The breath curled like smoke out of his mouth. 

_What is this?_

The world fell away and he was dropped in the woods in the dark somewhere.Shiva walked ahead of him, calm and unhurried. Slicks of ice grew across the ground where her feet touched. Dreaminess made him heavy, but Squall pushed himself forward to follow.

There were no landmarks to distinguish. Was this a real place? A row of white statue-like creatures lined the path among the trees, each wielding a massive pronged sword. He had seen them before. They radiated electricity, and their glowing eyes seemed to follow him as he passed. Everything was quiet as the grave. No footsteps, no rustling leaves. No life.

At the end of the path they were on, Shiva stopped and raised a hand. From the ground, a wall of ice rose. On shaking legs, he moved toward it and came face to face with his reflection. Bloody, run down, covered in sweat. The shadows beneath his eyes stood out in sharp contrast with his skin. 

It was the first time he’d really looked at himself in a while. 

Not a very inspiring image. 

As he looked deeper into his own eyes, reality tilted. He felt lost. Empty. A little sick. His shoulder ached sharply and the wall behind him turned to stone. Heat raced down his spine. The feelings were too loud.

Desperately, Squall turned his back on himself. 

Blessed silence. 

Shiva shook her head. Disappointment?

_Get in line._

Her palm shot out and struck flat against his forehead.

Squall fell.

When he came to, he had been taken to the infirmary. Dr. Kadowaki clicked her tongue in disapproval. Quistis sat by his bedside doing her best to look angry, but there was a deep concern boiling beneath the surface.

“When you missed the meeting this morning...” she started. She had always been an expert at that Teacher Tone. “I tried calling you about five times before someone told me there was a man down in the training grounds. How did I know it was you?”

Squall sat up slow, careful not to pull the fresh stitches in his arm. Someone had changed his bloodied clothes out for something soft and comfortable. “Lucky guess?” His scar burned and his head was pounding like a drum. 

Quistis gave him That Look. The one he had grown very accustomed to over the years. It didn’t faze him anymore. “What were you doing going in there without telling anyone? We’re lucky that wasn’t _your_ blood  you were covered in.”

Squall rolled his eyes. “I was - “

“ - fine. Right.” Quistis leaned forward, lowering her voice. “This doesn’t look like fine to me, Squall. I know you could have handled it, but you’re the commander of this school and you need to think about the optics of a student finding their fearless leader bloody and unconscious.” 

She had a point. A sigh escaped his lips. Not the best example to set by a long shot.

“So what’s really going on?” She said, in that way that said she already knew the answer. 

He avoided her eyes. The dream left him feeling like an exposed nerve. 

“We’re not doing enough.”

“I understand how you feel. But we’ve got nothing, Squall. Whatever happened was clean. It was smart. I understand the urge to send our whole force into Galbadia guns blazing, but we don’t even know if they’re still there. We can’t waste resources - “

“It wouldn’t be a waste.”

She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. “Listen to me. The moment we have a single piece of useful information, we’re going to pounce on it like we’re going to war. I will personally make sure of that.”

Squall nodded, tongue feeling thick. This was suddenly too personal of a conversation and he wanted out. It bordered a wound too fresh for another failure to be manageable. 

(That wound sat locked in a drawer in his desk. He still hadn’t signed it.)

“Look,” Quistis said, pulling him out of his thoughts. “I know what you’re thinking. I know you want to be out there. But we have this handled. And we need our leader.” She stood then, as elegant and wise as she always was. Bitterly, he admired her grace. “The one thing I will absolutely not tolerate is watching you self-destruct. Am I understood? You’re on notice, Commander. Clean up your act or I’ll force you to take leave.”

They both know she couldn’t actually force him to do anything. Not without the vote of the entire board, and that wouldn’t happen. But she was Quistis. And Quistis got her way.

A cold loneliness settled in when she left.

Being here made him think of Ellone. It had been months since they spoke. He considered calling to see where she was. She’d known about his dreams before, and maybe she could give him some direction on whatever he just experienced.

Unless it was a one off adrenaline soaked nightmare that probably wasn’t worth thinking this much into. 

The deciding vote came when he remembered he’d have to talk to Laguna to get to her and Laguna would ask how he’d been and he didn’t have the time to deal with that right now.

Judging by the pot of wildly colorful flowers by his bed side, Selphie had been here at some point too. Squall got up and stalked out to look for her, making a pit stop to drop the flowers off at his office. They really were beautiful.

He found her in the quad sitting at a table under a tree. Papers were scattered across the tabletop and she was humming to herself, foot bouncing happily. Balamb winters never froze, but the wind had a bit of a bite and it was definitely too chilly to be out in what she was wearing. But she didn’t seem to mind it. Of course, she had come from Trabia and this was probably a balmy day compared to the weather up there. 

When he sat down across from her, she didn’t look up. “Good morning! You’re early. I thought our lesson was at 11?” 

“What are we learning today?”

A tiny squeak escaped her throat. “You! Oh, I thought you were my student!” Selphie tutored in the mornings, completely of her own volition. She was a busybody socialite who stacked her days up to the minute. Which might be why she and Irvine worked so well. He reminded her to slow down once in a while. Stop and shoot the butterflies. 

She fixed Squall with a soft glare. “We were so worried about you! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, Selph. Didn’t mean for it to be a big deal.”

She nodded understandingly and laid her hand over his for a moment. Her eyes traced the line of the bandage covering the stitching. It would heal up fine once the potion worked through his system. Squall suspected the good doctor gave him a lower dose to stop him from getting out and being reckless again too soon. 

“I know you didn’t mean to. You just forget sometimes how much we care.” Then, in true Selphie fashion, she changed the subject. Because she was an angel. “Hey! Wanna see what I’m planning for the festival?”

“The one that’s...three months away?” 

“Obviously!” Selphie rolled her eyes. “A truly spectacular Spring Fling takes careful planning.” She leafed through her papers and pulled out a colorful drawing of a stage wreathed in flowers. There were strings of lights woven into the arrangements and detailed drawings of centerpieces, banners, gift bags. He didn’t have much of an eye for it the way she did. Zell and Irvine were usually her go-to for bouncing ideas around. But she kept her plans close to the vest and being among the trusted few who got a sneak peek felt a little sacred.

“This is really great. You’re doing a fantastic job.”

Selphie squirmed in her seat. “You really think so?”

“Yeah,” he bundled the sketches neatly and handed them back to her. “I really think so.”

She blushed and fussed over the stack, rambling on about how her lesson would be starting soon and she needed to prepare and how he must still be feeling under the weather. It was so very Her and it left him feeling lighter than he had in days.

Something in him clung to that feeling a little too hard.

When he got back to his own bedroom, the exhaustion hit. He turned the heat up to try to shake away the chill still pressing uncomfortably against his breastbone. Then, he looked at himself in the mirror.

There was still youth there somewhere. Under the mess. But the bones looked sharper. Hair grew down to touch his shoulders. The deep redness of his scar remained, but it had faded to something just a little less angry. 

His eyes had grown harder. Colder. 

_ What are you trying to tell me?  What am I supposed to know?  _

The search map sat open on the desk. Filled with scribbles and reroutes and notes in tight congested handwriting. Every course was a bust. Scouts had combed cities, major roads, train routes. 

_“We don’t even know if they’re still there.”_

Stone. Walls of stone. Where had he seen stone like that?

If they weren’t in Galbadia, and they weren’t in Balamb...

The world was too goddamn big. 

The phone rang. He let it go a few times before he finally picked up the receiver and held it against his ear.

_Please don’t be bad news._

“What?”

_“Commander, it’s Nida.”_

“And?” 

_“We’ve got something. You better get up here.”_

Heart in his throat, skull throbbing, Squall nearly knocked the table overgetting his feet beneath him. He took off running.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing playlist: Trioon II - Ryuichi Sakamoto


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a baby chapter before some big stuff goes down. I realize this whole thing starts pretty heavy on the angst. But you’re in for a treat soon. :)

Something had woken him up. Zell wasn’t happy about that.

Being awake _sucked_. When he was awake, he could feel the too tight stretch of skin against bone. The unforgiving pull of gravity. The rawness of bound wrists and the knots in his muscles. 

And then there was the endless fucking _buzzing_ that was driving him insane. Even his breathing was on his nerves. 

Shoes scuffed against stone. Cautious and careful steps. 

That’s what woke him. There was someone here.

Zell’s head was a wilted flower, too heavy for the stem of his spine. He couldn’t make his neck lift the way he wanted so he rolled it to the side and squinted into the darkness. 

Two figures huddled in the shadows, speaking in hushed whispers. Too short and soft to be his captors. Which was a small miracle. Didn’t really feel up for that right now, thanks.

Seeing anyone at all was a bit of a relief. Part of him had wondered if maybe he died and didn’t know it yet. He’d been left alone in the dark for days. 

“Don’t think you’re supposed to be down here,” Zell slurred at them, voice hoarse from disuse. The figures crept a little closer.

“...is that...?”

“No way, there’s  _no way_ ...”

As far as he knew, his existence was a tight-lipped secret. Probably safer that way. Would be a real shame if some poor schmuck grew a conscience and helped him escape. Hearts were in short supply around here.

Might be nice if they had some mercy though. 

The tiny shriveled piece of hope still holding on for dear life rattled it’s chains. He told it to shut up and sit down. Because there were a few possibilities here. First, it was totally likely his dose was off and the drugs were making him hallucinate again. The first few times it happened had been jarring, but phantom shapes moved in and out of his eye line a lot these days. Usually some hard blinking set things right again. Zell was getting very good at blinking. 

Less likely but still possible: this was another dream. They had never started like this before but they had been coming regularly. Hollow and heavy. Filled with heat. The shock of the machine made them more intense, like these people were trying to feed the thing inside him while he wasted away. And much as he tried to resist, once they knocked him cold they could study those brainwaves all they wanted. Couldn’t keep secrets in his dreams.

Third option: the shapes were real. Someone was actually here. But that was the most implausible, because it had been so long that everyone must have given up looking by now and counted him for dead. 

(The memorial service had probably been nice. Selphie would have gone all out. Maybe they said goodbye by the ocean. He would have liked that.)

_Sorry, Ma._

The shapes weren’t going away though. He blinked and blinked, but if anything they grew clearer. And they were hesitant. Afraid of getting caught. 

“Get closer!”

No, these definitely weren’t his captors.  These were...

“You do it!”

...Some kind of idiots.

“Ow...my stomach...”

_Oh hell no._

A wheezing laugh heaved out of him as Zone and Watts stepped into the light.

“Good to see you, sir!” Watts gave him a tiny salute before Zone slapped his hand down. The wide-eyed pair wore the uniform of the guards, and Watts had on a fake mustache. The last time he’d seen them was Squall’s wedding (where he had learned that Zone was a spectacularly bad dancer.) That felt like a century ago.

Zell decided in that moment that he had  definitely died and this was some horrible purgatory. 

“Are you my rescue?” He breathed. “Or... is there someone more competent standing behind you maybe?”

Zone hunched low with nausea at the thought of physical confrontation. Watts jabbed him with a knee. “Not quite, sir! Stumbling onto you was a happy accident!” 

Zell groaned, shifting his weight to give one of his tired legs a break. “So you’re telling me you just  wandered in to a... a secret lair in - where are we?”

“Centra,” Zone said helpfully.

“Are you -  _Centra_ _?_ Fuck me - okay, so you just... you just wandered on over to fuckin’ Centra and found me? By  _accident?_ ”

“That’s right, sir!” Watts took a few steps closer and examined the bindings. “We’re undercover. Didn’t know it would take us here.”

Zell’s head swam as he tried to think. Just two of them then. Against however many standing between here and the night sky. Half of Zell’s body was broken and weak and the other half shook from the abuse of the machine. 

Bad odds. Very, very bad odds.

But he couldn’t spend another day here. He just couldn’t. He’d rather go down fighting than die like this.

“So what’s the plan?”

Zone looked at Watts. 

Watts looked at Zone. 

Both of them looked at Zell. 

They weren’t even armed.

_I’m fucked_.

Somewhere nearby, there were voices.

Watts skittered backward. With a flash of light that blinded him, Zone took a picture. “We’ll tell them,” he promised. “We’ll get you out!”

“Wait! Please don’t leave me like this,” Zell begged, raspy and edged with desperation. Not another day, not another week. “Please.”

“It won’t be long! Just hold on!”

A moment later, they were gone. 

The voices passed. 

Zell was alone.

He had been proud of himself up to this point. Stayed strong. Resilient. Tough. 

But that night he wept. Chest heaving so hard his ribs felt cracked all over again. Heart pouring out of him into a puddle on the floor. Just out of reach. 

And maybe, just maybe, he had finally hit rock bottom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks for the comments! I love hearing your thoughts.
> 
> Writing playlist: Rope of Sand - Jamie Lidell


	5. Chapter 5

They had watched him so carefully when Nida delivered the news that they had a lead. A whole day later and Squall was still thinking about it. A chill had passed over him as every single person in the room had turned their eyes to him at once. What will he do? They wondered. What will our erratic hanging-on-by-a-thread Commander do? 

Because it was deeply personal and they all knew that and the awful feeling of being exposed made his skin hot.

The final piece of intel had come to them completely by chance from somewhere he had least expected: Zone and Watts. Yesterday, a grainy message from the pair arrived directly to Nida’s console (which meant either Ellone or Rinoa had given them the number and he would think about that later). They had followed a hunch that seemed impossible and ended up undercover in the hornet’s den. 

Apparently they’d heard from “a guy who knows a guy” that a resistance group was scouting Timber for new recruits. The two had signed on to scope it out, assuming it was Galbadians trying to take down the real resistance with a front. It wouldn’t have been the first time. Turns out, the group wasn’t a Timber liberation group at all. And they were desperate for recruits because they were moving something big. Equipment, research, and a “special package”. 

The blurry photo they’d sent was enough; Zell was there, and if they didn’t move on this now they might lose him for good.

The image would haunt him for a while. It would be worse in person. He needed to prepare for that.

Zone and Watts hadn’t had much intel to give otherwise. As far as they could tell, Zell was the only prisoner. The base of operations was a cave in Centra buried inside a massive sprawling forest. It was a smaller operation, if the rest of the photos were anything to go by, and Squall got the impression the militia was both organized and devout.

They had planned their attack the same night. When Quistis said they’d be on the war path, she hadn’t been exaggerating. Their best and brightest were briefed and ready to go before he even made it down to the ship. The timeline was strict. Not a minute could be wasted.

And now they were here. Night had fallen hours ago and the explosion of stars above wasn’t visible beneath the thick canopy of trees covering their trek. They had left the Ragnarok far behind them. It was too risky to drop any closer. No one had spoken since they landed and for that Squall was grateful. There was too much at stake. And for the first time in weeks spent chasing bad leads and drawing blanks, he had confidence that this would work. 

There was an uncomfortable feeling swirling in his stomach though. A tangle of hope and messy fear and something else that had been nagging him for a while that he didn’t have a name for. They fought hard and Squall kept it behind the carefully crafted facade of Commander. It was an old mask that he wore well.

Even if sometimes he forgot how to take it off.

_‘You don’t even smile anymore.’ She shouted. ‘Do you know what the papers say about us when you stand next to me with that face?’  
_

_‘I hate the papers,’ he shouted back. ‘I hate this. I hate the parties and the ceremonies and I hate the fucking papers.’_

_‘I’m sorry that I’m such a chore. It must be exhausting having to stand next to your wife and smile.’_

_‘You know that’s not what it’s about.’_

_‘I didn’t ask for any of this!’_

_‘Neither did I.’_

Squall clenched his jaw and kept walking.

They were split into three teams: the first, led by Irvine, were ranged specialists. Their role would be to scout forward, surround the perimeter, and pick off anyone who could sound the alarm. Once the attack started, it was their job to make sure no one slipped away. According to their informants, resistance would be minimal further away from the main entrance, and much of the defense would be distracted with the move. Squall would lean on that to its full advantage. The question remained of where exactly they were planning to move to, but that was a concern for later.

The second team would be led by Xu and included Garden’s top SeeD candidates. This would act as their field test. Xu had been thrilled such an opportunity had arisen and Squall was glad she had been willing to throw them into the ring. Once Irvine’s team cleared the area, they would infiltrate the compound with stealth and take up positions on the inside. A small group was tasked with getting Zone and Watts out safely. Another would knock out the spotlights at the gate to protect the advance and make them harder to shoot. The rest of Xu’s team would fire from behind the front lines once the rest of the force started the attack.

The last team, led by Squall with support from Quistis, was made up of trained SeeD. They would press in full force down the center and hit the front directly. The only unknown was the cave itself. Centra was a mess of tunnels and ruins and there was no telling if there was an exit from the inside. Best case scenario: there wasn’t. Worst case: they’d give chase. There was absolutely no room for error.

“ _In position,_ ” Irvine murmured over the radio. “ _Ball’s in your court, Xu_.”

“ _Moving in_.”

The hideout was in sight now. From the cover of the trees, Squall scoped out the fencing surrounding the mouth of the cave. A few trucks were driving away and Squall resisted the urge to stop them and see what was inside. Any intel would be wildly useful. But they weren’t here for that now. The recruits wore black from head to toe, with only a shock of green banded around their wrists. Not like any uniform he recognized. While the woods had seen little resistance, the front was congested. Plus, there was a lot of cover and defensible positions on their end. Once they recovered from the initial surprise, they’d put up a tough fight.

“ _Squall,”_  Xu said low over the comms. “ _We may have a problem.”_

A frustrated breath hissed between his teeth. “We can’t afford a problem.”

“ _We can work around it. But... we can’t cast. Can you feel it?”_

There was a cloudiness in the front of his mind. He raised a hand to scan the area but nothing happened. It felt like the force of two magnets pushing away from each other. They were in the right place, at least. It put them at less of an advantage though.

“We can handle it. Take no unnecessary risks. We do this smart. I don’t want to lose anyone else.”

_You haven’t lost him yet,_ a dark and determined part of his mind scolded.  _So don’t fuck this up._

“ _Right. We’re in position. Ready when you are. ” _

Quistis was watching him. Waiting for his call. 

“Alright. Irvine, make some noise. Get their attention.”

Somewhere in the distance, loud pops of gunfire rattled like an angry snake. The soldiers at the gate shouted and flew into a panic. Not sure where the assault was coming from, they scrambled and broke rank. The men loading the next truck hastily slammed the doors and tires screeched as they barreled away from the site. Whatever they were carrying must have been too precious to risk losing. But it wasn’t Zell, Squall reminded himself. All of this was for him.

“Quistis, take them in. Xu, hold position. On my mark.” The SeeD at his back charged, pushing out from the trees and making a push toward the gate. The gap of land between their cover and their target was deadly without magic but they made themselves difficult targets. By the time the enemy saw them coming and hurriedly closed the gate, Squall barked at Xu to light them up. The assault from all sides split their enemy’s focus and took heat off the back lines still pulling up the rear.

Then, with a deep groan, the spotlights shut down and Squall breathed a sigh of relief. 

He cut around the main bulk of the force and pushed his way to the front, hacking away at the hinges of the main gate with his sword. With a satisfying metallic racket, it flew open and forced the resistance to fall back. This close, the SeeD could take advantage of more cover.

It was bloody. Squall threw himself sideways as a cadet dug a knife into the neck of a gunman. Somewhere to his right, a wet dying scream. His eyes took in the battlefield, picking out lieutenants where they scrambled back into rank. It wasn’t a sophisticated operation by any means, but there was a clear line of authority. One of them had to be responsible. 

“ _Informants secure!_ ” Xu’s voice was almost lost in the noise. Zone and Watts were safe.

One more to go. 

“They’re breaking off!” Quistis called. Her whip snapped around a soldier’s wrist and yanked the gun from his grip. Squall found the defectors. A small cluster of them peeled away and sprinted for the cave. A retreat? Or a head start?

“I’m on it!” Squall shouted. Desperation bit the inside of his stomach like a viper. He leaped over cover and slashed forward, cutting a man almost clean in half. Blood sprayed his legs like war paint.

“Don’t go without backup!” Quistis called. But there wasn’t time. Weeks of searching and it could all slip through his fingers like sand. It was now or never and - 

Gunfire rang out behind him. One quick shot, then another. Two bodies fell. “Got you covered!” Irvine called, tipping his hat. “Go!”

Squall dove forward, sliding past the front lines and making a dead sprint toward the gaping maw of the cave. Irvine picked off a clear path and the deadly forward press of the SeeD kept attention behind him.

It was quieter inside. With the power down it was nearly pitch black. He sunk low and kept his back to the damp walls. Loud voices echoed somewhere deep within. One corner, then another. It was a mess of a maze. Had they been digging? For what? It reminded him of the caverns in his dreams of Laguna. The tunnels seemed to wrap in and around themselves. 

But at the edges of his vision, a small ghost of a memory seemed to guide him and he felt like he’d been here before. The weight of the magic blockade was lighter down here. Left, not right. Left again. Down an incline to a small set of stairs nearly hidden by a sharp curve in the rock. He took them two at a time. 

Shouting nearby. A grunt of pain. A narrow passageway led him toward the sound. Heart in his throat, Squall ran. 

“Shit!” One of the voices called. “Get him under control!” The sharp crackle of electricity made his skin crawl.

When Squall skidded around the corner and through the door, his eyes found Zell.

The first thing he noticed was the gore. Dark bruises wrapped around Zell’s arms in thick bands and the skin at his wrists was a bloody ruin. His hair was longer and a scruffy beard covered his jaw.Most alarmingly, he looked terribly thin. Weak. Exhausted. Three men armed to the teeth surrounded him, which was laughable because a breeze could have knocked Zell off his feet. An electrified baton waved threateningly toward him. But with a surge of adrenaline he was breaking free of the arms around him and swinging a fist at a skinny man’s face. It connected hard and the man stumbled backward. 

“ _Fuck you,”_ Zell spat, cradling a now broken hand. There was a feral curl to his lips. Like a hunted animal, his eyes darted between his enemies, waiting for them to strike.

Squall leaped out of the shadows and rammed his blade through the guts of the closest one in a smooth jab. He fell with a choking gasp and without hesitation Squall threw himself at the skinny one, stepping quickly to knock his knees out and cut a vengeful path down his spine. As the body fell, he whirled forward and in a breathless second put himself between Zell and the last of them just before the guard could strike at Zell’s face with his gun. The sound of the collision rang loudly before Squall kicked forward and launched the man to the ground, pulling the trigger of his gunblade. The bullet dug deep into his skull. 

And then the dust settled. 

After weeks of painful thought and worry, it seemed to be over too fast. The pounding of his heart made his blood feel thick. 

When reinforcements didn’t come, he could breathe again.

A few minutes more and they would have been gone. Lost for who knows how long. He had done something right. 

“Squall.”

Goosebumps broke out over Squall’s skin. Zell’s voice was rough and small and broken at the edges. But he was  alive.

“Are you really here?”

Swallowing hard, Squall turned. 

Cheeks gaunt, eyes dark, shoulders crooked. Zell’s face looked hollow. He swayed a little on his feet. Same stubborn set to his jaw though. Same determined stiffness to his spine. 

Hell, he was just so  _skinny._

“I’m here.” He forced around the lump in his throat.  _I’m sorry,_ he didn’t say.  _I should have -_

“The kids?”

That’s right. Zell didn’t know. This must have plagued him. Squall exhaled. 

“Alive. You did good.”

Zell nodded slowly. “Cool. Very cool.” Then, his knees buckled. Squall rushed to catch him and the wretched sob that escaped Zell’s throat twisted in him like a knife. Fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt like if he let go Squall would disappear. And there was fear in his eyes. What had they done here? “I think I want to go home now if that’s okay with you. This place really blows.”

Squall held him tight as he shook. So terribly small. They hadn’t broken him, but it looked like they tried like hell. 

_You’re safe_ ,  he didn’t say.  _You’re safe with me now._

“That’s probably for the best,” Squall said instead, smoothing down Zell’s hair. His hands couldn’t stop touching. All he had been able to think about was getting Zell home and now he was here. Real and breathing. Leaning into the touch like a lifeline. “You’ve really let yourself go.” 

Zell coughed out a surprised laugh, hiccuping a little around the tears spilling down his cheeks. It was a wonderful sound. “Wow, extra fuck _you.”_

It felt normal for a moment. Zell’s eyes were so blue when he smiled. Finding the life again that had gotten lost somewhere. And now he was looking at Squall like he was some kind of hero with the sun shining out of his mouth. 

It was dizzying.

“What hurts? How can we move you?”

With his broken hand, Zell did a vague full body gesture. “All hurts. Every all of it.” 

“‘Every all of it’?”

“Mmm. Y’got that right.”

Squall eyed the setup behind them. Tubes and straps and dripping blue liquid. Nightmare fuel. He remembered the prison. Hanging for hours under the electrified will of Seifer and his questions. Another memory he wished he could sacrifice. And now Zell knew how it felt. That didn’t sit right in Squall’s heart.

“Hey.” The hand in his shirt gripped a little tighter. “Really glad it’s you.”

“Who else would it be?” Squall teased, gently easing Zell into a more comfortable position. Quistis was closing in on them. “I always end up saving your ass.

“True. Missed that.” The man in his arms nodded sagely. Exhaustion made his eyelids droop. “What about you? You okay?”

Squall blinked. What a question. What a fucking question. After all of this, what a fucking thought to have. 

“I’m - “

“ - fine. Like clockwork.” Zell sighed contentedly. “I missed you.”

And.

Well.

A few things happened in that next moment.

The first was that Squall didn’t feel so lonely all of a sudden. The churning in his gut subsided like a retreat of the tide and for one second he forgot what he’d been worried about. 

The second thing was that something inside him unlocked and it was like all the things he had been stuffing in a box in his mind for the last month and a half were coming out at once and buzzing around him like a swarm of bees.

And the third was that without thinking and before he could stop himself, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Zell’s cheek.

(The tiny surprised breath would have been missed if he wasn’t so close. But he was close. And he didn’t miss it. It carved itself into the trenches of his mind, right next to a part of him that was waving its arms frantically to get his attention and asking some very reasonable questions about what in the _world_ he was doing.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are always appreciated. Let’s talk about this ship y’all. :) 
> 
> Writing playlist: Innerbloom - Rüfüs Du Sol


	6. Chapter 6

It was so tender Zell choked.

His mind went blank. He was dead. This was a hallucination. Some pleasant spasm of his brain before a nosedive into the great black abyss. 

But no, it wasn’t. 

He blinked hard. 

And then Squall was pulling away and Zell tried to memorize the shell-shocked look on his face and the flush of his cheeks as he looked down like he was coming out of a trance. 

Suddenly there were voices closing in and Squall was lifting him off the ground and cradling him with ease and Zell’s body kindly reminded him how fucking ragged he felt. His head was filled with rocks and they were banging loudly against the bone of his skull like they wanted out now, thank you very much.

For the first time in what felt like centuries, he let his guard down and it took all his energy with it. 

And when had Quistis shown up? He meant to wave but he couldn’t raise his arm high enough (and wow, that hand was _really_  fucked up)  and Squall was rubbing his back which was distractingly nice. Other things were happening too but everything was moving too fast for him to keep up.

“Is.... taking the... cleared out of... waiting for....field, so we still can’t.......” 

Fingers carefully set Zell’s broken hand flat against Squall’s chest to get the bones in the right place before a potion was tipped to his lips. The liquid was so cold and thick he nearly coughed it back up. When was the last time he’d had something to drink?

“... need....to the ship...seriously wrong with his...”

Sound kept cutting in and out like someone was covering and uncovering his ears. He tried to ask them to stop doing that so he could figure out what day it was but his tongue felt too heavy and his breath was probably bad. Some delirious part of him was self-conscious about how messed up he must have looked but when they hit the light outside it nearly blinded him so he buried his face into Squall’s shoulder instead and decided to stay there for a while until the world stopped tilting so violently. “It’s okay,” Squall was saying quietly, more comforting and kind than anyone had been to him in ages. “You’re okay. We’re going home.”

And. Interesting development. Squall smelled amazing.

Somewhere inside, Zell’s heart was bleeding.

The walk to the Ragnarok was long and that’s where the pain really came in. As his adrenaline wore off he became acutely aware of every broken piece of himself. Old wounds, long healed crooked and wrong, twisted themselves into knots as the potion worked through his cramping muscles. Every bumpy step was agony on his bones and all the little holes they’d poked up his spine burned. Squall’s frown deepened and his lips were moving but no sound was coming out.

 _Slow down_ ,  Zell thought as he passed out, _I think we_ _left a part of me behind._

The next time he opened his eyes, the lights of the infirmary stared back at him and there was a throbbing pain all across his back. A sickly pull of stitching across his shoulder made his stomach ache and someone held him down when he tried to sit up. “No,” said a firm voice that sounded suspiciously like Squall’s (but maybe he might have imagined that. Wishful thinking. Boy, he’d have to deal with that sometime, huh.)

“No,” he agreed simply, and fell back to sleep.

The second time he woke, his hands were tightly bandaged and the smell of coffee filled the air. Squall sat perched on a stool with a handful of papers and a pair of glasses slipping down the thin blade of his nose. He was reading a report out loud. It didn’t sound like anything important but it had him in some kind of irritated fit that settled the second he heard a giggle erupt from Zell’s mouth.

“You awake?” Squall said, softer than before.

“No,” Zell admitted. And down he went again.

The dreams weren’t the same as before. Now, he was sinking to the bottom of something murky. The surface of the water was disrupted, like a storm was raging overhead. But underneath he was safe. Suspended and weightless. And that was okay.

When the world finally stopped fading in and out like some patchwork drunken memory, it had been about three weeks since his rescue. At least that’s what the sign near the bed said. It had his name written in tight cursive, the day of the week, and how long he’d been laid up. A glass vase filled with yellow flowers basked in the lazy sunlight spilling in through the curtains.

It was quiet. 

He was alone.

He pursed his lips. 

Pinched himself. 

Flinched.

_Real._

He didn’t feel quite as wrung out as before. There was a dull cramping ache all over but his throat wasn’t so painfully dry and whatever surgeries he’d had must have fixed the busted muscles and bones. There would probably be a pretty wicked scar across his back, but scars were better than dead. He blinked hard, just to be double sure. 

_Still here. Still home._

Kadowaki knocked on the doorframe, smiling kindly. “Welcome back. You gave us quite a scare.”

“Thanks, Doc.” Hell, he was still so  _tired._ “What’s the damage?”

“Let’s see...” She sat on the edge of his bed and pulled out her chart. It looked comically full. “Damaged musculature in the shoulder, fractured toe, intestinal infection, signs of concussion, broken fingers and knuckles, malnourishment, dehydration, anemia. The list goes on.” She gave him a sharp look. “We are very lucky to have found you when we did.”

Woof. Should have asked her what  _wasn't_ wrong. Shorter list. 

He didn’t know what to say, so he went with: “Yikes.”

She laughed. “Yikes indeed. We had quite a bit of repairing to do. Whatever they were putting in you kept you alive, but you healed very badly in the meantime. We grabbed some samples of the stuff and we’ve been running tests. It’s not a pretty formula.”

Zell believed it. Every time they dosed him it felt like poison. It would take a while to get his strength back. 

Something like panic must have crossed his face because she put up her hands to soothe him. “Nothing was damaged beyond repair. You’ll be fine for field work after some physical therapy.”

Relief knocked the wind out of him. He took a moment to catch his breath. Not useless then. They hadn’t taken everything.  He did his best to shake it off. “Cool. So. Is there like.....any food anywhere.” 

That was when she gave him a Very Pointed Look. “You’ve been on a strictly liquid diet since you got in and we’ll need to reintroduce solids  _slowly_ so your body can adjust.” She stood and raised a firm doctorly eyebrow. It dared him to cross her. “I don’t want to see you sneaking down to the cafeteria and making yourself puke tomorrow.  _I mean it_.”

Zell nodded sheepishly.

Then, Squall cleared his throat. 

“Ah, the sentry returns,” Kadowaki said with a smile. “Zell, we’ll talk more later, okay?”

Squall watched her leave before relaxing. It wasn’t by much though, because his shoulders were made of stone and he hovered like he was afraid to come in. Zell took a moment to look at him with a clear head. 

It was obvious he hadn’t been taking care of himself. Shadows hung under tired eyes and his head lolled just enough to one side that it spoke to a sore neck. Probably from sleeping somewhere weird. Again. His hair was noticeably longer than Zell remembered and it aged him. It was a good look though. The anxiety wracking his whole figure sat at odds with the loose and comfortable clothes he had on, and Zell wondered just how early it was. 

“‘Sentry?’” Zell quizzed, trying to break some of the ice Squall had suddenly walled himself inside of.

“Oh.” Squall looked away. “She’s picking on me.”

Part of him wondered more about that but then he noticed the small bag Squall had been hiding behind his back. “Whatcha got there?”

“Contraband.” A ghost of a smile curled the side of his lips just a little and Squall finally came into the room. He sat down and rifled through the bag for a moment before passing Zell a styrofoam container and a spoon. “She said you’d be awake enough for... So, I thought. Well. It’s just mashed potatoes. But. Technically not a solid.”

“Dude,” Zell said reverently. “ _Hell yes_ _._ ” He had never been so happy to see food in his life. The first bite was a wonderful explosion of flavor; soft and buttery with a tiny twinge of garlic. Zell almost melted into the mattress. It was bliss. “I could die right now.”

Squall coughed.

_Oops._

“No, not like - ! I just meant that. I don’t remember the last time I ate something real is all. They had me hooked up to this...” 

A stormy look clouded Squall’s face and Zell trailed off, swallowing hard. That had been the wrong thing to say. 

“I read the file.”

“Right. Yeah. So, you know.”

“We’ll need a formal debrief.”

Zell groaned. “Please not today.”

“Of course not. I think Kadowaki would tranquilize me if I tried.” 

“I’d pay to see that,” Zell said wistfully around another mouthful. “But yeah. I’ll give you the whole mess of a story.” His heart sank further into his stomach. Squall’s displeasure was painted across his face like a dark mural of anger and guilt. 

“How... I mean. Do you feel okay?” The ceiling must have been really interesting today for as much as Squall was staring at it. That was fine. Zell could handle that.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks to you. I mean, all of you. Everyone. Sure know how to make a guy feel important.”

“Of course. You are important.”

Silence. 

Zell’s cheek tingled.

_Say something._

“Listen - “

Squall shot to his feet. “Let me know when you’re ready for the debrief.” He turned his back. Broke for the door. Paused. “I’m glad you’re awake.” And then he was gone. Like he had forgotten something so urgent it was life or death and he had to go deal with it right away.

Which was maybe possible.

Or it was the other thing. Which in his mind was now the capital letters Other Thing. But thinking about that was a headache waiting to happen. So he tried not to. 

Instead, he threw himself into recovery. 

The next few days were a blur of sleep and people coming to visit. Kadowaki gave him regular updates on his healing and after a while it made him twitchy. He didn’t want to hear how whatever-the-hell bone was strong enough to stand on now and why he couldn’t just throw back five hi-potions, whip a cure on himself, and call it a day. Which, okay. He knew why. He wasn’t an idiot. That’s not how it worked. But he wanted to be out in the field. They needed him. Nothing worse than a high ranking SeeD who was too weak to lift the goddamn physical therapy weights.

Selphie’s visits were his favorite. She brought him books and listened to him complain and let him lose himself in designing centerpieces for her lover’s day dance while he told her all the gory details of his capture. The stony face she put on while she transcribed it for the report was brave. Made him feel less weird talking about it.

Because it was kind of understood that things like this were just a part of the job. A horrible part, but always a possibility.

It was one thing to expect it and another to actually live it, though.

Eventually, she became his physical therapy buddy. Always there with the supportive word and knowing exactly when to push him for one more rep and when to put her foot down and tell him he’d done enough.Sometimes he wondered what he’d do without her.

“You said you had dreams?” She said as she held the hand pads steady. “What were those like?”

Zell jabbed the left pad, then the right, then the left again in quick succession. The gentler impact still made his arms sore. “It was like. I don’t know, like I was stuck somewhere that was... almost familiar? And it was  _freezing._ ”

“Hmm. One more.”

“And it felt like someone was watching me. Or like I was watching someone else? Or I  _was_ someone else.” He took a deep breath and switched his pattern. “I don’t know, dude. It didn’t feel like dreams.”

“And the GF was there?”

“Yeah, every time. Circling above my head like it wanted me to follow it? But I kept chasing it away. I don’t know. It’s stupid but I worried if I got too close or went with it they’d get something out of me I didn’t want to share.”

Selphie dropped the pads with a thoughtful look on her face. “You know. I have a book I want you to borrow.”

Getting back on solid food was both a blessing and a curse. Living with the appetite he always had, watching portions was a nightmare. But hell if real food didn’t taste amazing. By the end of the next week he could almost eat a full meal.

Ma visited too, and he cried  _embarrassingly_ hard when she did. Getting pulled into her arms made him finally feel like he was home. Call him a mamma’s boy, but goddamn. That woman. He couldn’t imagine the worry she had gone through. After about the seventeenth time she made him promise not to apologize anymore.

Squall didn’t visit as much.

After week three of physical therapy, Kadowaki wrote him a discharge with a stern lecture about overexerting himself. He was practically bouncing with excitement when Selphie met him in the hall with a basket of treats and a get well soon card signed by his students. Letters from the two who’d been with him during the attack accompanied the card too, but he didn’t think he could handle reading those until he was alone.

Things hadn’t changed much otherwise, but he hadn’t really expected them to. There was a lot to catch up on but at the heart of it, Garden was still Garden; Students cramming for mid-week tests, card games cropping up on benches, kids too young to train running madly down the halls. It was an overwhelming comfort. Selphie paraded him down the round and it had been so long since he’d been around so many people it was almost exhausting.

“Can I ask you something?”

She blinked. “I’ve been talking so much! I’m sorry! Yes, ask away.”

“What’s up with Squall?”

That gave her pause. She pursed her lips and thought for a while. “Seems a little pricklier than usual, I guess. Why, what happened?”

_Oh, you know, he just kissed my face and it felt about as loaded as an armed missile. But it’s fine, everything is fine._

“Nothing,” he said casually. “Just haven’t seen him much is all.”

“Really? Weird. We couldn’t get him away from you while you were out.” Selphie shrugged. “He took the whole thing really bad, you know? Hard to be around while you were gone, biting everyone’s head off. Did that trademark Squall thing where he blames himself for something he wasn’t even there to do anything about.” She rolled her eyes. “I think he’s just got a lot going on is all. With this and the... you know. He’ll come around.”

“Oh.” Zell stuffed his hands in his pockets.  Not much more to say about it then. That put some context to the Other Thing but not much. Because like, you don’t just go around Doing That just because you were worried about someone, right? Like unless someone invented a whole new thing while he was gone?

Selphie hugged him tight when they parted ways at his dorm and told him not to frown so much or his face would stick like that. When he went inside, it wasn’t as dusty as he had expected and part of him wondered who had cleaned for him. He made it the few steps to the table before his breath caught and he had to sit down. 

For months. something intangible had been missing and this was it. 

Privacy.

His hands started shaking in time with the hammering of his heart so Zell pulled himself to his feet again and locked the door. And that was a thrill all on its own. Then, he checked the window locks. Closed the blinds. Ran his hands along shelves, opened every cabinet and drawer, unfolded and refolded all of his clothes. Keeping himself busy until the uncomfortably manic feeling in him ran its course and felt satisfied.

After checking every corner twice, he stopped. There was nothing there. No one watching, no one monitoring, no one coming in to check on him. No cameras, no microphones, no eyes, no traps. 

Just the quiet solitude of a place he was safe in. 

He laid down on clean sheets and breathed deep for a long time. Hyper-vigilant. Restless. Skin crawling with anticipation that something was about to happen.

When nothing did, exhaustion finally hit him like a brick to the face. 

And for the first time in a long time, he didn’t dream at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God I love writing Zell. It’s so much fun. 
> 
> Leave a comment and let’s discuss? :) 
> 
> Writing playlist: A Flower Is Not A Flower - Ryuichi Sakamoto


	7. Chapter 7

February rolled in like a plague. The wind from the mountains had a bite that lingered and the rain wouldn’t quit. Balamb never got cold the way Trabia did, but a week of thick dark clouds was enough for even Squall to notice. And it did nothing to improve his foul mood. 

It had been weeks without a breakthrough.

Zell’s report sat on his desk next to the statements from the students, all marked to hell with notes and connecting ideas scribbled in the margins. Next to them in another stack, notes from Quistis on everything useful they had found at the site and what they were learning from it. There were no survivors to interrogate and not for lack of trying; examining the bodies of the soldiers they’d taken into custody, Kadowaki suspected some kind of barbiturate failsafe inside a hollowed tooth. Which was a devastating loss of information. And it told a cryptic story of the kind of people they were dealing with.

He had spent hours upon hours pouring over every piece. As if staring at them long enough would shake some golden nugget of information out of hiding. But he just wasn’t smart enough for this. Three different times today he had given up in a fit of frustration.

Of course, ‘giving up’ just meant throwing everything down, standing up and storming to the door, remembering it was pouring outside, and then sitting back down with a string of curses to get back to work.

It was safe to say he was losing his mind a little.

There was so much anger boiling in him it was hard to focus. And the worst part of it was that he didn’t even know who he was the angriest with. It changed by the minute.

Prime candidates included: 

1\. himself (in general; the usual suspect)

2\. bullshit fucking terrorist cowards (newly high-ranking targets, very satisfying to be mad at)

3\. himself (again, but this time in some paradoxical twist it was for being so angry at himself, no logic to be found there) 

4\. himself (again, but this time for being too hard to be around when he got in moods like this;  _she_  would be having a field day of ‘I told you so’ watching him snarl and pace) 

5\. Quistis (who was probably off being right about something somewhere and he was in too awful of a mood to face the horrible ordeal of being wrong right now) 

6\. Zell (who was actually a pretty low-ranking target of ire these days but still made him think too much about things he didn’t know how to deal with, so when in doubt put him on the list.)

Squall was _not_ avoiding him. He  _wasn’t._

And even if he was, it definitely wasn’t for the reason he’d spent days trying to figure out the meaning of. (The reason that he eventually decided was safer to just _very pointedly_ _not think about.)_

There were plenty of other perfectly valid reasons for avoidance.

For example, there were three things he knew for sure: there were things in his chart that Kadowaki hadn’t told Zell about yet, they were concerning her more than she was letting on, and Squall had absolutely no idea what to say about it.

Because as a friend, he should warn him. Right? Something was wrong. But how do you tell someone about something when you don’t even know what the problem is?

He could demand the answer. This was about his team. He had a right to know.

But if she wasn’t saying yet, there had to be a reason. She might not know. She needed more time. They were only just getting to the bottom of what actually happened and they knew there was some... not brain damage, not really, but. Irregularities. Things that were working, just not quite the same as they were before.

Squall didn’t know what to make of that either.

So he paced. Turning phrases like “tears in the mental fabric” and “post-traumatic stress” over and over again until they were as smooth as river stones. He kept looking for a keyhole somewhere that would unlock the whole truth.

They had talked about it, before. The scars. The way it aged them. In the beginning after the end of it all, they were the few who had seen what the end of the world might have looked like. But they shared that trauma. It was easier to cope with.

Zell had been alone in this.

The heavy sheets of rainfall bettered the massive windows of the main office and punctuated his turmoil. But at least it was nice to look at. This had been Cid’s palatial floor once. The Headmaster’s Office. Before the war, Squall had only been up once or twice. Now it felt like he spent more time on this floor than anywhere else. After Cid ditched Garden to go home with his wife (and handed the reigns of a military academy to a fucking 17 year old) Squall hadn’t been able to stomach anyone calling him “Headmaster Squall” for a single second. Garden Commander was a much more fitting title for what he actually did. Quistis handled all the student affairs. In that way, Cid’s old role had been split into two.

He had tried giving  _her_  this stupid office and she had laughed him out of the building.

The massive room just off the elevator was mostly for show and conducting official business. Large swaths of sandy fabric canopied across the glass dome of the ceiling. Gold filigree lined the ornate metalwork of the walls and candelabras made from glowing tubes of light adorned long tabletops. It was about the gaudiest room Squall had ever been in and despite years of this job he still felt the impostor syndrome creeping in when he looked around. Since Garden’s mobile capabilities had been discovered, the main office often became a buzzing hub of bridge activity and people who wanted his attention, so he generally avoided it in favor of the privacy of the much more modest study tucked away down a small hallway adjacent to the bedroom he rarely used anymore.

Squall didn’t like sleeping alone.

_“Aren’t you ever tired,”_  she had asked him once toward the end of their marriage, _“_ _of being so cold to everyone?”_

He pressed his forehead to the glass and sighed. 

_More than you know._

And that’s what it was, wasn’t it? She wanted to save him. Like the cold and dark parts of him could be switched off forever if she just loved him enough. It had been so hard to explain why it didn’t work like that in a way that made sense to her. Watching her try and fail in that impossible task broke his heart into pieces. And it wasn’t like he wasn’t trying to be better. There were counselors and medications, and journals he gave up on fast. Squall knew he had a lot of baggage. And she just didn’t feel things the same way he did. She didn’t have the same weight hanging around her neck all the time. How do you make someone feel that long enough to understand without ruining them? Without tainting their light with every messy thing you are? 

Not to say she didn’t have problems. There were plenty of things that weighed on her that he would never fully understand, like her relationship with her father. But she had grown up so differently. She had learned how to exist in this world in a way he never did.

And he was never been under the impression that being together would fix all of that. And it always felt like she was.

Sometimes he wondered if he had just been better with words if things wouldn’t have fallen apart the way they did.

A knock on the door dragged him back to reality. It was so soft he almost missed it in the sound of the rain. 

“What is it?”

“Hey.” The door slid open and Zell poked his head inside. “Just me.”

Squall got that rolling feeling in his stomach again. Anxiety. Worry. Embarrassment. Anger. His mouth went dry.

“Oh.”

“...Bad time?” 

There was a stubborn sturdiness to Zell’s jaw that said he had his mind set on something. Probably along the lines of  _‘why are you avoiding me like the plague?’_ He looked better than the last time they spoke at least. Still too skinny but less like death.

 _Company might be nice_ ,  a traitorous part of him thought. 

“Never a bad time for you.”

Zell’s lips quirked up at the edges and Squall cleared his throat.

“Cool.” He was balancing a silver tray against his hip as he came inside. Damp hair was swept back out of his face and he was dressed like he just woke up. Which was entirely possible and probably a good thing. Getting Zell to slow down, even injured, was a monumental accomplishment. Slippered feet padded softly against the floor and Squall quirked a brow. 

“This isn’t a lounge, you know.” 

Zell set the tray down on the corner of the desk and rolled his eyes. “It is when I was in bed and found out you skipped dinner.” Then, he looked unsure. “Thought I’d pay you back for the contraband.”

“Thanks.” 

The plate Zell set down in front of him was still warm. Steamed vegetables flanked a generous portion of steak and potatoes. It smelled amazing and Squall’s stomach reminded him how hungry he actually he was. 

_...Are we just going to ignore it then?_

“Someone’s gotta make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

Zell rolled his neck and stretched for a moment to wring out the lingering drowsiness. The hem of his shirt rode up as he reached toward the ceiling and a tanned patch of skin drew Squall’s eyes to a laser-focus. Alarmed, he tore his gaze away and stared at the clock on the wall instead. It was pushing eleven, and it was a beautiful clock, and Squall felt like he just got hit by a car.

“You mind if I join ya?” Before Squall could answer, Zell picked a chair and slumped back into its cushions with his plate on his lap. Not leaving it up for debate.

“I don’t mind.”

Zell smiled at that. It was bright. 

The steak was perfectly cooked. Squall suspected there had been some kind of bribery pulled to get into the kitchen this late. Of course, it probably hadn’t been hard for Zell. They adored him down there. Squall couldn’t count on both hands how many times he found Zell making someone laugh while stirring a pot or hopping in to lend a hand for line control on the busier days. A hold-over from growing up with Ma, maybe. Helping was in Zell’s nature, and he liked to keep his hands busy.

There was a lot of silence Squall didn’t know what to do with, though.

“It’s really coming down out there,” he said lamely.

“Sure is.”

In place of his usual chatter, Zell was reading a book. His face looked serene when he read. Lashes fanning out across the sharp curve of high cheekbones. The cover didn’t look as flashy as Zell’s usual favorites, with daring knights and a tragic sorceress and some heroic journey. Saying that was all he read was unfair though. Zell’s grades had been exceptional. For as impulsive and hot-headed as he seemed, the man was full of all kinds of useful facts.

Curiosity got the better of him.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh!” Zell said. “Well, you read the report. You remember those dreams I talked about having while they zapped me? With the GF?” Before Squall could answer, Zell launched into an explanation. “I was talking to Selphie about it and she said they reminded her of a book she read back at Trabia, before the...You know.Anyway, so we had a copy in the library and it’s listed under fiction, but like...” He tapped the books cover excitedly. “This is it. This is exactly what I went through. It talks about how the GF interact with our subconscious through dreams and how maybe trading junctions has more of an effect on us than we thought? Like, obviously the useful stuff is buried under this convoluted fluffed up plot for interest, and it’s not a very good story if I had to like rate it but - that totally doesn’t matter, sorry. I dunno, I guess it makes me think maybe there’s more to it than I thought?” Then, he took a breath for the first time since he started and scratched the back of his neck self-consciously. “Or its a total coincidence and I’m trying to justify it. Y’know.”

This was important to him. “Can I see?”

There was a bounce to his heels when Zell perked up and crossed around behind Squall, laying the book flat on the desk. His chest pressed against Squall’s shoulder as he leaned over to flip a few pages. Several sections had been dog-earred. “I marked the stuff that seemed familiar. Whoever wrote this must have been a student at some point but I couldn’t find the name in any records. So probably a pen name.” He flipped a few more pages, hand brushing against Squall’s wrist. “I mean, it’s not a perfect source, but I don’t know. I was hoping maybe it would help?”

As Squall read the open page, his mind kicked into overdrive. The idea that trading junctioned GFs could cause some kind of mental link between hosts was absolutely insane in its implications. This kind of potential meant a world of new avenues for training and squad building. It also sounded wickedly unsafe. And the dreams... Manifestations of emotional distress, but something more too. How many times had he felt Shiva stirring when he wasn’t on the battlefield? And how were they supposed to interpret what a power like that wants?

There was still so much they didn’t know about the GF and junctions were a fragile and hard to study science. They were only just scratching the surface of the kind of damage housing such power did to the brain. The cold reality was that SeeD didn’t have the life expectancy for that kind of long term study. Lucky for this generation, Squall had a sharp mind to change that statistic.

The was a small scar wrapped around Zell’s wrist. Squall remembered how bad that wound had looked when they found him. The skin felt softer now where it brushed against his arm. 

“Anyway. It’s probably dumb. I’m sorry.” Zell started to pull away and Squall realized he hadn’t said anything in a while. 

Scrambling, Squall reached back. “No, I’m sorry, wait - “

They both froze when Squall grabbed Zell’s hand.

There was a moment of nothing that felt too heavy and Squall didn’t have a plan for that. Because this  was helpful. It was something he hadn’t found yet, something new to look through. He had thought ages ago that he should give Zell more credit and here he was being surprising again. 

And here  _they_ were again, not talking about the cave, not talking about the -

“Balamb to Squall,” Zell said softly. “You’re doing that thing where you’re thinking a lot and not saying it out loud.”

Hell, what was there to say? Stay?  _Why_? And then what? He was absolutely floundering and all he could think about was how warm Zell’s hand was. 

Then, as carefully as he would handle glass, Zell’s fingers slowly slid between Squall’s. Hesitant. Moving like he didn’t want to scare him off. There was a bird in Squall’s chest beating frantic wings through heavy molasses. 

“Is this okay?” Zell asked quietly. Whatever was pulling between them was too tight for words. All Squall could do was close his eyes and nod dumbly. “Okay. Let me know if that changes.”

The softest touch on his cheek pushed a shaky breath from his lungs. A thumb brushed across his bottom lip like a prayer. Then, fingers carded through the length of his hair. Squall was afraid to open his eyes and dispel the nervous warmth settling over him. 

Because he _liked_ it.  And that was terrifying.

Soothing circles were rubbed into the back of his neck. Finally, he worked up the courage to open his eyes and watch close as Zell brushed his lips against the back of Squall’s hand. 

The air was sucked out of the room. Squall was drowning. 

And then, Zell untangled their fingers and gently took his hand back. He stepped away. Retreated to the other side of the desk. Giving Squall the space to think. 

Putting a feeling into the world with no pressure to return it.

Did he _want_ to return it?

Squall trembled like a nervous leaf. 

He thought of the cave. The way Zell fell into his arms, heavy with relief and looking at Squall like he was exactly the person he wanted to see, the person he knew would never leave him behind. Squall remembered choking then too. Because his heart was in his throat and it was confusing and he hadn’t realized until seeing him again how much he missed having him around. 

_“Squall, why did you go off on your own?”_ Selphie had said that day in Galbadia’s prison.  _“Is Zell that important to you?”_

He could have it. It would be so easy. Stand up and cross the room and say something. Three steps.

But the words wouldn’t come. 

He thought of the papers he still couldn’t sign. Locked in the drawer of his desk. His head fell into his hands. 

_“I’m moving on. I hope someday you can too.”_

“It’s okay.” Zell’s voice was thick. He stacked the plates on the tray. “You should get some sleep.”

Squall couldn’t bring himself to look up, couldn’t see the disappointment that was sure to be plain on Zell’s face. The door closed quietly and he sank back into his chair. He didn’t know what he wanted and his goddamn hand was still tingling.

But above all, he felt like a coward.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the continued support! Don’t forget to drop a line in the comments! :)
> 
> Writing playlist: The Hearse - Matt Maeson


	8. Chapter 8

One of the last bits of advice Cid had given him was that there were two kinds of leaders. The first had a brain. They knew every piece in their arsenal. They ordered. They hardened. They stepped back and played their team like a carefully crafted game of chess. 

The other had a heart. They weren’t the player but the piece that led the charge. They listened. They inspired. They walked the grounds and made conversation.

Squall had asked him which one of those leaders survived the longest. And to this day, he still thought about the answer he got. It was cheerfully cryptic in the way that only Cid could be. 

With a twinkle in his eye, Cid had replied. “Neither.”

Squall took what he could from that (even if it felt like Adult Nonsense). Know your arsenal. Move the pawns but be among them. Be hard, but be flexible. Listen and command. It was important to be seen. 

A leader who wasn’t one of the people was of no use to the people. 

So for the first time in days, Squall left his office. 

A block of ice sat heavy and unmelting in his stomach as the elevator descended. He hadn’t been able to sleep so he’d stayed up reading the book Zell left cover to cover, and now his mind felt wrung out. But today he would make an effort to be more present and check on morale.

It was time to be brave. 

A smell like sweetness and syrup wafted through the air when he made his way to the cafeteria. It was early enough that the breakfast rush hadn’t quite started yet and only a few disheveled cadets shuffled through the line nearly asleep on their feet. They perked up noticeably when they realized the Commander was around. But Squall didn’t want a big fuss about it so he did what Cid would do and shot them a tiny smile.

Which... scared them? The girl at the front of the line almost lost her footing she was so surprised. Squall thought hard about what his reputation was these days. 

The cooks, on the other hand were  _thrilled_ to  see him. The main line’s attendant fussed over how well he looked (with what felt like an unspoken “given the circumstances” that made him wince) and an extra helping of bacon was piled onto his already too-full plate. She sent him on his way with an overly kind pat on the hand and a little thumbs up for encouragement.

Armed with a coffee so black he could see himself in it, Squall took a seat at the staff table and observed.

In one corner, a dark-haired artist Selphie had been raving about getting on board for the Garden Committee recruitment brochures sat alone. In line laughing with some friends was a gunslinger that Quistis had mentioned receiving excellent marks on a practical exam in the last staff meeting. One to keep an eye on. Squall had leafed through their files, but it was helpful to put a real face to the names. As more students filed in, he quizzed himself on the ones he knew and made a mental note to speak to the ones he didn’t.  “ _A winner always knows what every card in their hand can do._ ” Those were Laguna’s words. Sort of. He’d said it worse, and he was mostly talking about Triple Triad, but the sentiment was good.

Being in the cafeteria was never something he had enjoyed as a student. The social burden felt like a noose. He never knew where to sit and he always felt exposed and once Seifer and the disciplinary committee started making their rounds, everything went white hot and tasted like metal.

Now there was no Seifer.The exposure, though, couldn’t really be helped. 

There was some commotion in the line that derailed the memory. Rush was in full swing, and Squall’s eyes caught sight of a familiar sprout of blonde hair sneaking out of the kitchen balancing a stack of waffles in one hand and the scrambled equivalent of probably ten eggs in the other. His mouth was moving a mile a minute through a toothy grin as he ducked between confused students to dodge the spatula the head chef was trying to smack him with. There was an extremely fond expression on the chubby cook’s face.

When he finally made his escape and turned his eyes to the staff table, Zell’s smile grew impossibly wider. Squall resisted the urge to hide his face. 

“Goooooooood morning, fearless leader!” He was practically electric as he took the chair next to Squall. If there was any lingering disappointment from the night before, Zell was doing a remarkable job hiding it. “Didn’t know if we’d see ya today.”

“Didn’t want anyone to have to come accost me for missing a meal.” Squall took a long drink.

“Damn,” Zell said through a mouthful. He bumped Squall’s thigh with his own. “Was looking forward to that.” 

And that seemed to be that. No awkward tensions. No cold shoulder. Just food and chatter. And it was in that moment Squall remembered that despite whatever confusing feelings he had, Zell was an incredible friend. For the next half hour, he did most of the talking. When anyone approached their end of the table, he spoke first and answered questions to direct the pressure off Squall’s shoulders. Did he even know he was doing it? Squall was unexplainably grateful regardless because it almost felt normal. Like he could be seen without everything turning sour.

Zell was still talking when they cleaned up and left together. Something about Ma sending him another care package, and the rare cards she had gotten her hands on after beating a tourist from Dollet fresh off the train. The endless conversation used to drive Squall insane but Zell was so endearingly honest and interested in everything that it was hard not to let it grow on you. 

With classes in session, the quad was empty. After all the rain they’d had, the day was cool and the mist from the mountains blanketed the whole campus in a soft humidity that spoke of a coming spring. Flower buds were growing thick with intention and the trees were already contemplating blooms. Sooner than later, it would be paradise. With lover’s day passed, the Garden Committee would be finalizing plans for its Spring Fling. Selphie had begun planning for it months ago and the sketches she had shown him then had only grown more elaborate since. Spring was her absolute favorite. And if excitement was an infectious disease, Selphie could have killed an entire population. She had volunteers of all kinds lining up for jobs and over 20 student musicians to audition for the band. And knowing Selphie, it would all go off without a single hiccup.

It was good to have some brightness at the end of this mess of a season.

“So, Commander, what’s on the books for today?” Zell said, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His hair looked golden in the light.

“I don’t really... have a plan? I’m trying to...” He gestured vaguely. “Be present. I guess.” It felt stupid to say out loud. Everyone was always harping on that. Be present, be social, get out of your head. Most days it felt like he was being pulled in so many directions by so many opinions of who and how he should be that at any minute he’d break into a bunch of tiny marbles and scatter all over the ground.

But Zell nodded sagely like it made perfect sense. “I get that. Doc says I should rest more but I dunno. Getting stir crazy.” He popped up on the balls of his feet for a moment. When they were young, he never seemed to stop. Squall had a faint useless memory of the squeaking of Zell’s shoes during class as his foot bounced during a test. If Zell had to sit still too long he’d probably explode like an overloaded circuit.

It was different now that he was older. The energy was more focused. Less like a blindly tossed grenade and more like an aimed shot.

Mostly.

“Did she say anything else?”

“Nah. Just to hold off on magic for a while and some shit about eating more protein, as if she has to tell  _me_ to eat more.” He shrugged. “Hey, you get a chance to look at that book some more?”

Zell had been right about the plot. It wasn’t great. But it detailed some things that hit a little too close to home. He couldn’t remember how many times he’d woken up with buzzing in his ears and the taste of ozone on his tongue while Zell was gone.

_How do you tell someone you think you were having the same dreams?_

“It’s useful. Thank you.”

“Great!” Zell popped a fist in the air. “I mean, I know it’s not a lot but anything is better than nothing, right?” Then, he grinned. “Didn’t want to make you read trashy fiction for no reason.”

It really was a beautiful day, wasn’t it? Thick clouds broke apart like puzzle pieces.

_Be brave._

“I was thinking...”

“Y’know, they say anything in excess is bad for you.” Zell tilted his head to one side and quirked a brow like a brat.

“I _said_ I was thinking...I might need some time off.”

“Woooooooow,” his companion enunciated dramatically, throwing his arms up to the sky, “it’s almost like  _someone_  has been telling you that for a  _century_  \- “

“Can I cash in that rain check?”

Zell stopped in his tracks.

“I didn’t think you remembered that.”

Squall kept walking. “Of course I do.” 

“I - now, hold on - I meant...  _stop walking so fast_ ,” Zell jogged to catch up. A hand reached out to touch Squall’s shoulder. Like it was nothing. He felt it all the way up to his jaw. “I’d love that. When were you thinking?”

There was a stubborn lump in his throat. “I don’t have anything this weekend.”

The bells chimed. A crisp breeze blew. Zell rocked back on his heels excitedly. “Alright! I’ll let Ma know we’re coming down, she’ll be so excited to see you! I’m gonna call her, but I’ll find you later okay? So like, don’t go hiding anywhere!” And then he was off, zipping back inside and leaving Squall alone with his thoughts. 

He decided to keep walking. It felt good to stretch his legs. Aside from his drills, he hadn’t had a good workout in a while. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted the exercise. Might force out the lingering gloominess scraping at his ribcage.

Morning classes were getting out when he made his way back inside. Quistis appeared from nowhere and fell in step with him as he worked a path through the students. He waited for her to speak; clearly something was on her mind. When she didn’t, he bee-lined for the training grounds. “Got some time?”

“My next class is in an hour.”

“Join me?”

She followed him into one of the sparring rooms and took her shoes and glasses off. Then, she rolled her neck and assumed a ready stance. “How are you feeling?” 

Squall didn’t know how to answer that, so he lunged and jabbed at her side. In turn, she shot out a hand to grip his wrists and use his momentum against him. He tumbled forward to catch himself and sprung up behind her.

“Fine.”

“I’m glad you’re out and about today.”

“Can’t stay cooped up forever.” He swung a foot out to knock her off balance but he only half succeeded. For as good as she was at everything, Quistis also had incredible hand to hand reflexes. Her style was much more refined than his own, favoring speed and shifting momentum over powerful blows. Her quick grace was matched only by Seifer in class, and watching the two of them go head to head had been an interesting study. Gunblade specialists had to toe the line between quick, precise, and powerful, but Seifer had always taken it to a new level, moving more like a fencer than anything. Squall was a little slower, but much more calculated and exact. While Quistis regained her balance, he had curved around behind her and whipped a blow across her back.

“Bad for optics,” Quistis agreed as they parted and reset. “With everything going on, it’s best to play your strengths and keep doing your job. A job that you’re very good at by the way, in case no one’s told you lately.” This round she struck first, jabbing him square in the chest. The force knocked him backward for a moment but he was quick to turn that against her. He took a bigger step back than she was expecting and she lost her footing coming forward for a second strike.

“It’s nice to hear you say something about my work that isn’t ‘take a day off’.” 

She ducked beneath his swinging fist and charged at his thighs, forcing him to hunch to protect his stomach. Bent knees were her real target, and she twisted to kick into the curve and send him dropping hard to the ground.

“Don’t take it that way. I am definitely still doing that.” They reset once again. A light sheen of sweat cooled his neck. The two circled each other. “You’re losing your edge.”

“Bullshit,” Squall said, swinging an elbow toward her gut. She drove her palm into the curve of his arm and turned, swinging him sideways. He landed squarely on his ass.

_Fair point._

“So you’ll be happy I’m taking the weekend off then.”

Her expression was absolutely glowing. “You mean it? You’re not just going to pretend to leave and then sneak back in through a window?” A pause. “Again?”

Squall rolled his eyed. “I mean it. I’ll even have a chaperone to make sure I don’t smuggle papers out in my shirt.”

Long blonde hair was swiftly tidied up and Quistis placed her glasses neatly on her nose. One second and she looked perfectly collected again. “Ah. Going with Zell then?” 

Squall eyed her suspiciously. He hadn’t said anything like that. Was it obvious? What about it would be? 

“Relax. Lucky guess. Zell’s time off request just came through. I’ll put one in for you too.”

...It had been so long since he took a day for himself he didn’t realize they  _needed_ to put in a request. “Sure, yeah. Should be... fun?”

They walked together to her classroom. “Do me a favor? Try to enjoy yourself a little? Don’t think about work. And  _don't_ think about the tabloids. I assume you saw my email.”

_Ouch._

There it was. The conversation he’d been avoiding all day. Almost made it. 

“I did. Thanks for the heads up.” Full page photos of Sorceress Rinoa out on the town with a mystery beau. Squall didn’t resent her for it. He was glad she was finding the happiness he couldn’t give her. She had looked beautiful in the photos, and most importantly, she was smiling wider than he’d seen in a long time.

Still stung though.

“I’m sorry, Squall.”

“Yeah. I’m not... Just. No. It’s whatever. Really.”

She took him by the shoulders and saw through him in that very blunt way of hers. “I’m not pitying you. That’s not what this is. I just want you to look around and see what you’ve still got. Okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes ma’am.”

She put her hands on her hips and sighed. “Keep your head up. It’ll blow over like it always does. We’re here for you.”

He watched her until she disappeared into her classroom. 

_Try to have a good time. Right. What could possibly go wrong._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing playlist: Are You With Me? - Stars
> 
> Can’t wait to share the next few chapters with you. Come chat with me on in my new tumblr @kt_vunda! :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay! To make it up to you, I’ve got a few chapters of Domesticity and Pining lined up just for you. :)

There was a flutter to his heartbeat that he scowled at in the mirror. Because this wasn’t anything. It was a weekend with his best friend and a visit to his best friend’s mom. It had happened like this a hundred times. They would have dinner. They would play cards. They would talk. That’s all it was.

And they would absolutely  _not_ talk  about - 

_This is a disaster._

A small bag sat on his bed, filled with a change of clothes, his toothbrush, and a small gift for Zell’s mom. He’d picked up some cards and a bottle of wine on his last visit to Deling. Since he hadn’t seen her in a while, he was sure he’d get an earful. Hopefully this would appease her motherly wrath a little.

Packing took way less time than he had thought it would, so he polished his gunblade and then its case to give his hands something to do. When that was done, he had only killed a half hour. 

_Hell_.

The plan was to take a rental to Balamb Town and spend the weekend there. Not too far from the comfort of the school for Squall but enough to get some fresh air and see things that weren’t the same walls he’d been staring at for weeks. Zell had taken care of everything and that made him nervous but he tried to trust him and not call the hotel to confirm their reservation. One day to relax and see Ma and another to “do whatever”. Which meant Zell wanted to go monster hunting. Which was a terrible idea and Kadowaki would be fuming. 

But with all this pent up anxiety, maybe that was just what he needed.

Everything would be fine.

_So why are you freaking out?_

He got to the garage too early. Did he get in the car to wait? Stand outside? Go back upstairs and call the whole thing off because there was really too much to do? He opted for leaning against the cool side of the car and staring at the concrete ceiling. And he tried to stop thinking about it. Everything was different now and that was his fault. This whole thing was a broken mirror and he couldn’t figure out where the pieces were supposed to go to make it right again.

“Yo!” When he looked down, Zell was standing in the doorway with a hand on his hip, backpack slung over one shoulder and a ridiculous pair of sunglasses patched low on his nose. “Why are you brooding? Am I late?”

“Why do you never know what time it is?” If he had been late, Squall might have chickened out. No chance now. 

“I don’t have a watch.” Zell shrugged. Then he fixed Squall with the biggest puppy eyes he could manage. “Can I drive?”

Squall caved and got into the passenger seat. Zell wiggled excitedly as he buckled his seatbelt. He loved driving. It was a hold over from growing up, when he was twelve and Ma would let him sit on her lap and press his foot on top of hers while she drove through town. Everyone would wave and greet him like he was the best driver on the road. That was one of Zell’s favorite and most personal memories. He’d told it a few times, probably in hopes that it would keep him from forgetting.

The trip down wasn’t terribly long but they weren’t in any rush. They drove with the windows down and Zell looked absolutely thrilled to be out in weather like this. He talked the entire way there; about his students, about his plans for the next semester, about some logistically insane thing Selphie had somehow pulled off. One hand on the wheel, the other gesturing wildly to emphasize his point.

If coffee was a person, Squall thought, it would be him.

After a while, he turned to Squall and asked sincerely, “I’m not boring you, am I?” to which Squall simply shook his head and meant it. Listening to the him talk like this, Squall was mostly amazed that he never seemed to run out of things to say. The smile that bloomed on Zell’s face after that didn’t seem to fade. 

When they reached town, Zell parked at the gate and they walked up the road to Ma’s. It was always a culture shock walking with Zell through his hometown. This was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone. He generally tried to avoid small talk but Zell seemed to thrive on it, asking about everything from how the kids’ piano lessons were going to what kind of flowers they’d be planting this year. And everyone seemed genuinely happy to see him. 

What would it have been like to grow up in a place like this?

Ma Dincht’s house had a distinct smell. Like a salty sea breeze and the warmth of fresh bread. There was a hint of parchment too, from the stacks of collected magazines and newspapers laying around. With a goofy grin on his face, Zell tried to sneak in the front door. It almost seemed like he’d succeeded until Ma, without missing a beat, said, “Zell Dincht, you know how I feel about surprises.”

Zell deflated. “But Squall is here!”

She whirled around and Squall dropped everything to make room for the short arms and soapy hands that pulled him into a tight squeeze. “It’s so good to see you!” Then, she pulled back and gripped his shoulders. “I haven’t gotten the chance to thank you for bringing him home.”

“Of course.” His face felt too warm. “I mean. It was - we couldn’t have just... It was nothing.”

“It was everything,” she said firmly in that way she did when he was being self-deprecating. Then, “How are you holding up?”

This was her way of asking about the divorce. ( _Has it really been that long?_ ) It stung, but something about this woman he just couldn’t lie to. He shuffled from foot to foot nervously and Zell took that as his cue to quietly and politely take their things upstairs. “It’s been different. I’m okay. Don’t worry about me.” 

She gave him a kind smile and patted him on the cheek. “It’s my job to worry. What’s a mother for?” Then, she turned back to her dishes. “Make yourselves at home. And if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I’m missing some things for dinner tonight. Could you tell my son to be a dear and pick them up for me? List is on the table!” 

Squall ascended the stairs and poked his head into Zell’s bedroom. Quistis had been right when she said it was immaculately clean. His room at Garden was too; Zell just didn’t like mess. It took a long time before he even showed them this room and even then he didn’t trust them to touch anything. Squall’s gunblade was tucked neatly in the corner by Zell’s T-board and their bags were placed next to the tidy bed. Zell was taking a moment to stretch. He looked peaceful here. No place like home. 

Check in at the hotel wasn’t for a few more hours. Squall stopped staring. “Your mother gave us a list.”

“Home two minutes and she’s already giving me chores,” Zell laughed as he rolled out his shoulders. “Well, good excuse to get lunch and shop! Was there anything you wanted to do today?”

“Not really.” The picture of Zell’s grandfather caught his eye. A couple years ago, he’d teased him about it. Zell had said his grandfather was strong and level-headed. Now, as they were getting older, he could see the influence this man’s memory had on his adoptive grandson. 

Or maybe he was just noticing something he’d missed before. Hard to tell if he was seeing things that were new or looking at him with different eyes. 

“I remember this.”

“Oh.” Zell rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously. “Yeah.”

Squall picked the frame up and handled it with care. “You know. He’d be proud of you.”

“You think so?”

“I do.”

Zell was quiet for a moment. A blush made his cheeks a little pink. “Thanks. That means a lot coming from you.” Then, he sobered. “He was captured too. A POW for about a year. Ma said he wasn’t the same after that. There was always something... missing.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Kind of.” Zell cleared his throat. They were standing very close. “Can I see that list?”

Fresh air could do them both good.

It was warmer than yesterday, but the sea wind still had a bite. The ‘short list’ rapidly turned into ‘we just got paid and I want to spoil my mom’. Their shopping basket became three baskets. Squall weighed fruit while Zell bumped into a cereal display and nearly knocked the entire thing over. It took about three aisles and a very stern glare from the shopkeeper to stop laughing about it. 

Squall couldn’t ignore how light he felt.

They made it through with new pots and pans and enough food to keep an army fed (which was probably just barely enough to sate Zell’s insane metabolism for a few minutes). At the counter they browsed magazines while the cashier rang them out, and Zell flipped a tabloid backwards casually enough that he thought Squall wouldn’t notice. 

He did.

A fisherman near the docks was the next stop. Today’s freshest catches were strewn across a long tub of ice. Squall held the bags and watched Zell haggle animatedly with the fisherman for a few minutes before drastically overpaying and trotting away looking very pleased with a huge fish wrapped in brown paper. “He always tries to give me a discount,” Zell complained.“Too bashful to say it, but I think he’s got a crush on Ma.”

“How can you tell?”

“Just the way he looks at her, I guess. Sometimes you can just tell.”

Squall thought about that the entire walk back.

Ma fussed over their haul and insisted on putting it away herself, but Zell wasn’t having it. His bright laughter bounced around the kitchen as he darted around her and the towel she swatted at him to put the new pots away. Upon a dramatic cry for help, Squall took pity on him and distracted her with the gift. She hugged him and then slapped him on the arm, muttering something about an old woman’s frail heart not being able to take all of this attention. She chased them out of the house with the promise of a good dinner ready at 6, and threatened that if they choose to be late she’d break out the good plates. After what felt like fifty more stops to talk to neighbors, they made their way to the hotel. 

It was like he was invisible here. And not in the bad way. Just in the way that everyone was mostly paying attention to Zell and not asking the Commander of Balamb Garden about his divorce or about the new man swooping in to steal his ex-wife (as if she was just a possession. That drove him craziest about the tabloids). It didn’t matter in Balamb Town. He was just Squall, familiar face and friend of Zell. Offered a polite wave by whoever was chatting up his companion. It was nice.

After check in, Zell flopped down on the bed closest to the window and sighed. “I’m so hungry I’m gonna die.” 

“Your stomach is a black hole.”

His arms rested lazily on the pillows above his head. Catlike, he closed his eyes and tilted his face toward the sunlight. The dark curves of the tattoo around his cheek drew Squall’s eyes. They followed the long line of his neck down to the bit of stomach made bare by a devastatingly short shirt. The muscles there weren’t what they had been a few months ago, but their definition was already returning. Zell was a human machine gun powering through calories like bullets and he seemed determined to get back what his capture had stolen.

_What else did they take from you?_

“I can feel you staring at me, you know.”

Quickly, Squall looked at the ceiling.

“Sorry.”

“I don’t mind,” Zell said quietly. 

_What is this? What are we doing?_

“Lunch?” Squall’s voice was rough around the edges.

“Music to my ears!”

There was a cafe attached to the hotel, with small white tables clustered near a wall made entirely of glass for a better view of the ocean. Sunlight glittered off the surface of the water like crushed diamonds. A wide-eyed young waitress scribbled hastily as Zell rattled off his order and looked relieved when Squall just got coffee and toast.

As soon as she left, he was hit with a wave of dizziness. 

They were just going to spend the morning together and get lunch like normal people? Do something as domestic as grocery shopping and let that be that? Just like - ?

_“If you don’t come out and spend time with me tonight I’m walking out that door and I’m not coming back. Are you listening?”_

“You okay?” Zell said around a straw. “You haven’t said much in a while.”

Squall shook his head and came back to reality. “A lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, I can see the steam coming out of your ears.” Zell blew into the top of his straw. The paper covering flew across the table and hit Squall square in the nose. “Ha! 10 points.”

Squall blinked and sighed. Zell’s face turned serious. “Hey. Talk to me. What’s going on in there?” He reached across the table and tapped Squall’s temple.

“I don’t think I remember the last time I took some real time off.”

“I do!” Zell said. “You took a few days after... And we were all really worried about you because you wouldn’t tell us where you were going or when you’d be back.”

That was... what, almost a year ago? No wonder he felt so run down.

That was the day Rinoa delivered the papers. He’d been so distraught he didn’t know what to do and he couldn’t look his friends in the eye. Feeling endlessly guilty and painfully relieved and overwhelmingly like a failure, he did the dumbest thing he could think of and went to Esthar to see Laguna. They’d spent a day getting gloriously drunk and Laguna let him sleep it off in a presidential suite with a steady supply of breakfast food and a gift box filled with new socks delivered the next day. Which was weirdly endearing. He stayed in the city for about a week and it helped more than he was willing to admit. Say what he would (and did, often) about the man’s general competency, but Laguna had some very good moments. And he didn’t think so hard about everything. He just did what felt right and dealt with the consequences as they came. 

That was a lesson Squall still hadn’t gotten down. 

He had learned a lot that week from Kiros and Ward too. They were kind and wickedly funny men who he was entirely convinced were the missing halves of Laguna’s brain. They finished each other’s thoughts so often if felt like they were one person split into three comically different bodies. They’d been through hell together and came out stronger on the other side. The best of friends. And that had made him miss his own. When he returned, they were so happy to see him that Selphie made him a cake and decorated his office. No one asked about it but Quistis, and he had resented her for it at the time. That was unfair of him. 

He had been so worried everyone would abandon him. 

The waitress brought their food then and Zell let him off the hook. “When you want to talk about it,  _if_ you  want to talk about it,” he said kindly. “I’d be happy to listen.” 

He kept doing that. No pressure, no demands. Letting Squall decide what he did or didn’t want. It was so different than what he was used to.

And it somehow made things that much more difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s discuss how much I love writing Amorous Panic Squall. 
> 
> Writing playlist: Wasteland, Baby! - Hozier


	10. Chapter 10

Tipsy was a generously vague word for how Zell was feeling after several glasses of expensive wine.

A better descriptor would be something more like butterflies doing a synchronized gymnastics routine in his stomach that kept making him giggle. 

Squall was holding his alcohol better, as he always did. But there was a flush rising from his chest that turned his lily white throat the same pretty shade of blush pink as the wine and it was taking everything Zell had in him to stomp down the insane urge to  lick it.

And  _that_ was why he kept refilling his cup. 

A homemade meal was always the best, and Ma’s were the  _best_ of the best. When she was young, she had dreamed about going to culinary school, but lacking the money or the time she took instead to teaching herself everything she could. An impressive collection of recipe books and cooking magazines were stuffed between old editions of Timber Maniacs in the living room. Tonight, she had spoiled them with dishes of pan seared fish and creamy noodles, crispy garlic bread, and a medley of grilled vegetables, potatoes, and dark leafy salad. And the expensive wine paired beautifully with the meal. So it really wasn’t his fault he was tipsy then, see. It was Squall’s and Squall’s alone.

Zell couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed so much. The last time he had felt so happy and at ease. He still hadn’t gotten the world to feel the way it did before and everyone treating him like carefully handled glass was getting old fast  but this felt like taking the express train to Being A Normal Person Again. Like maybe he didn’t have to keep an eye over his shoulder. 

And if Squall happened to be laughing just as much, with his hair falling into his eyes when he looked down to hide a smile from whatever kind thing Ma had said about him, that was a nice bonus. 

And now, with everything pushed off to the sides of the table to make room for Triple Triad, Zell leaned forward with his head propped up in his hands and observed the battle of the century.

“Interesting move.”

“Face your defeat with grace, Mr. Leonhart.”

“You know that’s not my nature.”

Strategically, there was just no way he could come back from this one, unless he pulled off an actual miracle. Ma had the entire board. It had been the most exciting match up Zell had ever seen. Best five out of nine and this final round would be the end of it. Squall had gotten so much better since the last time they had played and his deck was flush with rare cards even Zell hadn’t seen. Ma’s deck had always been mythical, but today Squall had given her a real run for her money. If nothing else, that was accomplishment enough. 

But Squall refused to bend. And like everything else he put his mind to, he was a master. Playing cards was one of the few things he would actually admit to being good at without someone holding a gun to his head about it. And damn if Zell didn’t always love watching him artfully demolish the unsuspecting Galbadian whenever they visited G-Garden.

Ma’s face was smooth as she eyed her opponent. Giving nothing away. Small beads of sweat dotted Squall’s brow and if he focused any harder, he would have turned to stone. Then, he lifted his hand. Took a breath. Placed the card on the table. 

A tiny and dangerous smile curled the edges of his lips. 

And then Zell’s chair hit the floor as he leapt to his feet. 

Somehow, against all odds, he had done it. The card he laid flipped everything.

“YOOOOOOOO!” Zell bounced around the room as Ma smiled and sat back in her chair, whistling low in appreciation. In a drunken thrill, Zell threw his arms around Squall’s shoulders from behind and planted a solid kiss on the man’s temple. Which he would _absolutely_ kick himself for later but  _fuck_ it was just so exciting. In all his years, he had never seen Ma defeated.  _Ever_. Squall was now the president of a very exclusive club of one. 

A hand found his arm and squeezed and a breathless laugh poured from Squall’s mouth. And the butterflies were taking home the gold this year.

“So the day has finally come. Somehow I knew it would be you,” Ma said sagely. “This calls for dessert! Zell, bring it out, would you?” 

She gave Zell a Significant Look that he wasn’t sure the meaning of, but he popped into the kitchen and cut a few soft slices of cake as the two talked quietly amongst themselves and Ma handed Squall his prize. Zell couldn’t tell what the card was from the kitchen but Squall gave that very rare smile he got when something was unexpectedly nice. He didn’t add the card to the deck. Instead, Zell saw him slip it into his wallet. 

A mystery for later.

Ma’s chocolate cake was the best in the world, hands down. He had never tasted anything as rich and soft and perfect. He had a theory that they could have stopped the Sorceress with it. Didn’t get to test that theory unfortunately but next war? It was  on.

And suddenly Squall seemed more at ease than he had all day. His shoulders had finally relaxed and the leftover tightness of his jaw disappeared. Something had been weighing heavy on his mind that Zell hadn’t quite gotten to the bottom of yet, but if this night brought him even an hour of peace, he’d consider that a huge success. The man deserved it more than anyone, after all he’d been through. 

There was also the issue of the staring, too. Not that it was an actual issue in his mind (despite making Zell’s neck hot around the collar). It was just one of those things to add to his “Squall Is Acting Different, Right?” list that was growing longer and more complicated by the day and was making his head spin a little. 

And there was definitely a line to be drawn here. Not for Squall, but for himself. Clearly, there were still a lot of painful and lingering feelings about the divorce looming like a heavy raincloud. There were also some things that if Zell didn’t know better could be mistaken for, Hyne forbid,  _flirting._  (Which made comically cartoonish question marks want to pop out of his skull because  _in what world.)_ But there was no way he was going to be the one pushing Squall into something he probably didn’t really want. And maybe that was because it was pretty clear Squall was just lonely and didn’t want to talk about it and the risk of making him pull back in on himself wasn’t one Zell was willing to take right now. Because this? Getting out and letting himself be social and have a good time? That was fucking outstanding and Zell wasn’t going to selfishly ruin that just because he misconstrued the attention. He’d pushed the other night and Squall had shot him down. Sort of. Or not? Maybe. Hard to tell. It was a whole thing, whatever. The point was, he didn’t want to keep pushing. If Squall wanted to talk about it, he’d have to be the one to bring it up.

Ma gave them both a huge hug and told them to stop by again before they left and she’d have a care package ready for them to take back to Garden. Which was awesome, because that meant muffins and Ma made the best muffins.

Man, Squall was right; he really thought about food a lot.

They walked back to the hotel in a comfortable quiet. Balamb Town wasn’t a late night town by any means, and most of her residents were tucked away in bed by now. Resting up for an early start. Zell loved nights like this. Cool and easy, with a big bright moon peeking out from a sheet of thick and fluffy clouds. 

And hell, he’d missed the sky a lot in that cave.

A playful bump to his shoulder knocked him sideways a little. “Hey!” He laughed. “You’ve got plenty of street on your side!”

Squall had stopped and was looking at him. Maybe it was the wine, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. “Thank you for today. This has been really nice.”

“I’m glad!” Zell felt warm. “Still have all day tomorrow too! You should get out more. It’s not so bad, if you spend it with the right people.”

“Fair point.” Squall stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept walking. Zell watched his back for a moment, wondering what was going on in his head. “I like spending it with you.”

Zell’s face went red. 

“I’m glad!” He hadn’t exactly meant to imply he was the right people but if the shoe fit. And it’s not like it was news they liked being around each other. Right? They spent tons of time together, even before the end of the war. He was his right hand man. Definitely the person Squall confided in the most these days. And it was rare Zell wasn’t part of the main team. They got along great, when they weren’t arguing about strategy.

It just felt different now.

Squall stopped again and Zell almost ran into his side. “Am I a nice person?” He blurted.

“Uhh. Like, to be around? Or - “

“Never mind, don’t answer that.” 

A deep frown screwed up Squall’s face which made Zell giggle. “I think you’re a _good_ person .” 

Lips pursed, Squall looked unsure about that. “What’s the difference?”

This felt important. Zell thought for a moment. “Intention.”

“Is it better to be good than to be nice?”

“Yeah. I mean, nice people are... easier, I guess? Like. They just want to say the right thing. They don’t want to stir the pot. But good people try to _do_ the right thing. Even if it isn’t easy. Even if it’s messy. I don’t think nice is as meaningful.”

“Are you tired?” Squall asked suddenly. And boy, this conversation was giving him whiplash.

“Not at all.”

“You wanna walk the beach with me?”

_I’d walk the ocean for you if you asked._

“Sure.”

They passed the hotel and followed the curving road down past the docks. Zell slipped off his shoes at the end of the stone walkway and wiggled his toes in the coolness of the sand. A wide stroke of stars littered the sky like an afterthought of the moon and the hissing roar of the ocean slapping waves against the shore was a peace he never tired of. The few memories he had left of Matron and the orphanage were always underscored by the same sounds. He knew Squall felt it too. 

“What’s the earliest thing you remember,” he found himself asking, “about anything?”

“Rain,” Squall said drily as he kicked up a bit of sand. “Standing on the porch in the rain. I think I did that a lot.”

“You didn’t spend as much time with the rest of us, did you?”

“Didn’t know how. Miserable kid. No surprise I didn’t get adopted.” Squall reached in his pocket and pulled out two tiny bottles of booze he must have swiped from their grocery haul. He passed one to Zell. “I’m going to drink if we’re going to have this conversation.”

Zell nodded. “Earliest thing I remember is a scraped knee I got once from Seifer shoving me down the front steps. The antiseptic smelled like lemons. Totally useless memory.”

“Ever thought about who your parents might have been?”

“No,” Zell said honestly. “Haven’t ever wanted to. Sometimes I think I was always supposed to end up with Ma. Universe just got it a little mixed up in the beginning. You?”

“I think about it all the time.”

Their shoulders brushed as they walked. In a surge of inebriated bravery Zell took Squall’s arm in his like it was nothing. After a moment of thoughtful silence, Squall kept talking. 

“What’s the earliest thing you remember from being at Garden?”

_No point dodging this one._

“You.”

Zell could feel him staring again. “Why?”

He took a long drink.

“You were cool.”

“I was - “ Squall snorted. “No. Absolutely not, you’re an idiot.”

“No! You were! You were aloof and _mysterious_ and  - “

“ - angry and miserable and I had no idea how to talk to anyone - “

“And good at everything and always knocking Seifer down a notch. You were like, my idol, and I thought you hated my guts.”

“I probably did for a while. But I hated everyone, so it wasn’t personal.” 

Zell grinned. “Good to know.”

Squall stopped them near the shore line for a moment. The water graced their feet as the tide rolled in and Squall turned his face up toward the moon. With his eyes closed, he looked serene. All soft marble skin and delicate lashes. “Can I ask you something serious?”

“Y-yeah, sure, anything.” Zell’s heart lodged itself in his throat. Was he going to...? 

“Do you think I could beat you to those rocks?”

“What - ?“

Out of nowhere, Squall took off running. And he was fucking  _fast._

“Wait! That’s not fair!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~shalalalalala my oh my, looks like the boy’s too shy~
> 
> Drop a line in the comments or come say hi on tumblr! @kt-vunda
> 
> Writing playlist: Out Like A Light 2 - The Honeysticks


	11. Chapter 11

With the head start he’d had, it was easy for Squall to claim victory. He collapsed against the rocks and laughed until he felt light-headed as he watched Zell tumble over his own feet in his scramble to catch up. There was damp sand smeared up his entire arm where he’d hit the ground.

“You’re a goddamn cheat is what you are,” Zell scolded as he braced his hands against his knees and caught his breath. “I take back anything nice I’ve ever said about you.”

“Don’t be a sore loser.” 

“I am not!” He stomped up to a drier patch of sand with a pout and wiped himself off. “In any  _fair_ f ight I would destroy you and you absolutely know it.”

”Please,” Squall said with a smirk. “You’re lucky you’re in recovery or I’d knock you on your ass.”

One of the things Squall decided he liked about Zell was how deliciously easy it was to get under the man’s skin. He was so passionate about everything and he’d always been a hot-head. Pushing his buttons was irresistible, and there was something so satisfying about getting him fired up.

And right on cue, Zell stopped in his tracks, tilted his head to the side, and turned around with an affronted expression on his face. 

“Let me get this straight. You think...  _without your gunblade_... that your 100% is anywhere near a match for my 50%? That’s cute. Really.”

In Squall’s defense, or so he told the anxious part of his mind that he was studiously trying to ignore, the overconfident grin was asking for it. He put his hands on his hips and batted his lashes. “Sure. Says the guy who tripped on _sand_ a few seconds ago.” 

“You know what?” Zell squared up and tossed his jacket off, bouncing from foot to foot. Despite the drinking, he had a good stance. The lean muscle of his arms flexed as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “Give me your best shot then,  _Commander_.”

“Nah,” Squall waved his hand dismissively, “I don’t want to kick an old man when he’s down.”

“ _Old?!_ ” Zell guffawed. “You’re only five months younger than me!” 

Squall shrugged, shedding his layers. The chill of the air soothed the heat of his skin. “Five months is a long time, grandpa. But if you wanna break a hip about it...”

Zell was stockier and usually much stronger, but Squall was leaner, taller by about 4 inches, and Zell was still at maybe half power. There were worse odds.

(Just don’t ask him why his heart was hammering the way it was because he didn’t have a good answer for that particular piece, thanks.)

Without warning, he launched himself at his companion. 

And.

Well.

Look, it had been a long time since they sparred. And maybe Squall might have made some slight miscalculations about the state of Zell’s strength. And reasonably he had expected to lose but to at least put up a decent fight.

Instead, Zell took him down in the space of a breath.

In one second, Squall went from hooking his foot around Zell’s ankle to landing flat on his back and caged between a pair of powerful thighs. One hand anchored Zell upright in the sand and there was a wicked glint in his eyes.

Which was noticeable only because of how close their faces were. 

“Good thing no one timed that,” Zell said with a low hum. “Would have been embarrassing for you.”

_Oh,_  was all Squall could think.

He noticed a few things at once. 

The first was how hyper-aware he suddenly became of every place their bodies touched. It made him feel like he’d grabbed a live wire with his bare hands and the shocks were rattling down his spine in bolts. 

The second was how bright the moon was on the soft curve of Zell’s beautiful shoulders.

The third was that Zell was barely breathing and his eyes were dragging a tortured path along the lines of Squall’s parted lips.

_Oh,_  Squall thought again.

Something in him settled. 

His gripped Zell’s shirt and dragged him down into a kiss.

There was a dreamy quality to the way it felt, slower than normal life, and a small part of him expected to wake up. But he didn’t. It took Zell exactly one second to inhale sharply before he was kissing him back with an aching desperation that felt too honey-sweet to be real. He didn’t know what he’d thought kissing Zell would be like, but this was so much more. It burned deep through the fog and rushed to fill the emptiness he couldn’t get to go away. A slight stubble scraped at Squall’s chin as Zell tilted his head and it made Squall’s hands shake. 

It had been so long since he’d felt wanted.

_How long will it take you to ruin it?_

The intrusive thought crashed him out of the strange and wonderful trance he had fallen into and the part of him he’d been ignoring had kicked the door in and was letting him have it. Panicked, he pushed Zell back. 

_What do you think you’re doing?_

Quickly, Zell drew his hands back like Squall had burned him and sat up immediately. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have, let me get... - “ 

But Squall closed a vice-like grip on his waist before he could move away. There was a second part of Squall’s mind screaming at the first part now. And all it said was ‘ _if you let him go again he’ll never come back_ ’. 

“Wait.” 

A huffed breath pushing past Zell’s lips. There came a startling realization that Squall knew what those lips tasted like now. That they were just as soft as they looked. “Squall,” he said slowly. “I need you to tell me what you want because I’m getting really mixed messages here.” 

“I know, just. Give me a second.”

_I don’t know what I’m doing._

“Okay,” His arms were lead weights where they hung at his sides. Like he was afraid that any sudden movement would chase Squall away.

Which might have been true.

_You scare me and I like it._

His heart was ready to split his chest apart. 

Being with Zell felt the way he thought a good childhood should have. Light and easy and filled with warmth. He had an impossible optimism that was almost -  _almost_  \- contagious. And for a moment, Squall had  _almost_ been able to put everything else away and focus on the perfect way their mouths fit together. 

But could he do that? Was he allowed to have something like that again? And since when did...? Since when did he want...with...?

_...Do I like...?_

Gently, and so carefully, Zell brought his hands to rest on top of Squall’s. “Can you maybe ease up just a tiny bit on the death grip?”

That brought him back to reality. Squall blinked and looked up and his breath caught like a feather on the wind when Zell smiled.

“Hey.” Squall said finally.

“Hi. Lot on your mind?” 

“Yeah.” That was a gentle way of putting it. Squall reached up a hand to tentatively trace the dark lines on the side of Zell’s face. “I have to tell you something.”

There was a memory. In the library, a girl with a pigtail was giggling as she and her friends looked between Zell and a book they were huddled around. It was an ancient fortune telling book, they had said, before asking Zell some silly questions about himself. He was so oblivious at the time that he didn’t realize the girl had feelings for him. They had teased him about it for  _months._

_How long have I been that oblivious?_

Zell hummed and leaned into the touch like a cat. The weight of him across Squall’s hips made his stomach twist. “Is it a secret?”

“Kind of. I think I dreamed about you.”

“...Really?”

“It was... I think she was trying to tell me. With the connection. Maybe. Like in the book.” It sounded stupid when he said it out loud. But the fainting spell in the training grounds had been too intense to be a dream. Something more had happened there. He had been seeing with eyes that weren’t his own and he didn’t realize it until they found Zell and all that stone had looked awfully familiar. Every time he woke up for weeks before the rescue, his mouth had tasted like metal and static. It couldn’t be coincidence. When they got back to Garden, he resolved to talk Zell into doing some junction tests. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t figure it out sooner.”

“Dude, there’s no way you could have figured that out.” Zell shook his head. There was an exasperated fondness coloring the words. “You can’t possibly blame yourself for that.”

Everyone kept saying that but he did. And discovering what Zell had gone through was a nail in the coffin of his guilt. Because he knew what it felt like. The pain, the helplessness. It was a memory time would never erase.

_“I’m sure you can imagine what happens now...”_

_“You’re on my ‘tough-nut-to-crack’ list...Didn’t think you’d talk that easily...”_

_“Even if you don’t talk, others will... the instructor, the little messenger girl, or that chicken-wuss... he wouldn’t last three seconds!”_

“Don’t you?”

Zell blinked like he was waiting for some kind of punchline.When it didn’t come, a soft look overwhelmed him. “You’re serious. You’ve spent this whole time thinking I blame  you for...?”

“If I hadn’t - “

“ _Squall._ ” Warm hands cupped the sides of his face and whatever he was going to say got lost somewhere in the back of his mind. And then those lips were on him again and he suddenly couldn’t remember what he’d been thinking about to begin with. It was heavier than before, like gravity stuck it’s fingers in the gaps of his ribs and was pulling him down into the earth, deep into a damp warmth where he was safe from it all.

Where he felt  _cherished._

The desperation was still there though. Zell exhaled shakily, hot breath splashing against the corner of his mouth as he pinned Squall’s wrists above his head in the sand. The world turned upside down. Squall couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed like this. A part of him wondered if he ever had. There was a rich masculinity beneath the heat of the teeth that bit down to worry his bottom lip and the tongue that slid a teasing apology across it.And there was an undeniable thrill to giving up control that was going off like fireworks in his chest. 

When Zell broke away, he was panting. He pressed his forehead to Squall’s and slid warm hands feather-light down the length of his arms. The ocean hissed and crashed against the shore and distantly Squall thought it might be nice to be swept out to sea and feel this weightless forever.

“You’re....I mean.  _Hell._ ”

It didn’t make sense but he understood. Zell’s voice was hoarse. Parted lips, flushed skin.Pleasantly devastated. Squall pulled him down again and explored his mouth a little deeper, just because he could. Because it was  _good_. 

_How was my weekend? Oh, you know. Got drunk and made out with my best friend on a beach like a teenager. The usual._

A low sound escaped Zell’s throat and hips twitched just enough to spark inside Squall like the striking of a match. And  _that_. Well.

“Fuck. Sorry.” Zell giggled.

“Don’t be.”

The weight atop him shifted and Zell collapsed down next to him. The loss felt like a tragedy. “I’m trying not to push too much.”

That was sweet. Squall stared up at the stars and ignored the distant memory of floating through empty space, wondering if he’d ever - 

“I won’t break.”

An arm snaked across his ribs. Easy and comforting. Was that what this was now? “I know. I just wanna. Like. I don’t know. You’re...” Zell sighed. “You’re  _you._ ”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Stop it, I know what face you’re making. It’s not a bad thing. It’s just. Significant.”

Squall shifted a little to look at him. Zell’s eyes were closed, cheek pressed against Squall’s chest, fingers drawing slow shapes against his side. Like he was basking in this as long as Squall would let him. Holding his breath,  diving straight into the deep end, and floating slowly to the surface.

But he was worrying about something. 

Being Commander meant knowing your team. Zell somehow balanced chronic overconfidence with crippling self-doubt. Which was ridiculously contradictory, and Squall supposed that’s why the structure of SeeD life worked so well for him. Easier to have confidence in someone else’s commands. It was something he had been working on correcting professionally. Putting Zell into leadership roles and forcing him to follow through with his plans.  Because he was wildly capable and smarter than he gave himself credit for.

It made sense that all of that made its way into his personal life, though.

“You think you’re going to mess something up,” Squall guessed.

“You don’t?” Zell snorted. “Have you ever met me?”

A hand found its way into the mess of blonde hair and he smoothed it down in a physical attempt to calm his own swelling nerves. “Fortunately, I have. Saved the world a time or two, remember?”

Zell scoffed, but a smile played on his lips. He poked Squall’s arm. “That totally doesn’t count.”

“What - why would that not count? I think that’s the  _only_ thing that counts.”

“Okay but that’s just ‘punch stuff, don’t die’. This is... I haven’t ever been great at this.”

That made Squall wonder. 

There was a summer before their SeeD exams that Seifer and Zell had spent a lot of time together. Zell brushed it off as a training project, but they were practically connected at the hip. You couldn’t find one without the other, and there were a few weekends they had disappeared together. The hostility wasn’t as bad then either, like Seifer was too preoccupied to be his usual outright menace. And for a while Squall didn’t get singled out by the man as much. Not that they stopped fighting completely; he didn’t think Seifer could exist without picking a fight, but it didn’t have the same poisonous edge.

And then one day it stopped. Out of nowhere, the two were at each other’s throats again and it was even worse than before. They could hardly stand to be in the same room together. Zell missed a few days of class with no explanation. His temper got shorter. Seifer got meaner. More reckless. Squall got his scar shortly after. 

And then Rinoa came into the picture and the world tried to end.

It wasn’t until they all thought Seifer was dead that Squall had really figured it out. In any other context, Zell’s reaction would have seemed extreme. A lost love though?

It was hard to see anything likable about Seifer. What had that been like? What drove them apart?

“Well. I’ve got the paperwork to prove I’m no good. Tried and true screw-up.”

_“I’m moving on. I hope someday you can too.”_

Zell propped himself up on an elbow with a sly grin. “Keep kissing me like that and I think you’ll do just fine.” 

That was an invitation if he’d ever heard one.

There was a reverence to this moment. Like a heavy and comfortable blanket. That couldn’t last, could it? Some anvil was about to drop on their heads. Right? But it didn’t come. There was no target on his back, no monster with gnashing teeth ready to brawl. Just this. Just them. Basking in the spoils of a mercy granted to him by whatever scales were tipping in his favor. 

Might as well take advantage of it. 

Squall threw a leg over his companion to straddle him. He didn’t have much of a plan beyond that but it felt like the right thing to do.

_Thank you, alcohol bravery._

“ _Oh_ , hi again,” Zell said breathlessly, putting his hands on Squall’s waist. He was looking at Squall like the sun was shining out of his mouth again and was he allowed to do that? Why would anyone look at him like a prize to be won? Failed marriage, failed - 

Thumbs dug sharply into his hip bones. “You are not allowed to  _sit on me_ and then jump back into your head.” 

_ Be present. What do you want? _

Squall raised a brow. “What are you gonna do about it?” 

An absolutely sinful grin spread slowly across Zell’s face and with an intoxicating roll of his hips, he made a very compelling argument. Squall sucked in a sharp breath, mouth going dry. He could feel how much he was wanted. 

Which was. Very different.

_It’s not like you’re a virgin._

Experimentally, he moved. Grinding himself down with slow intention. A groan slipped past Zell’s lips and the hands on him gripped too hard with surprise. It would probably bruise.

And if that thought didn’t excite him more than he was willing to admit.

“Careful,” the man beneath him said shakily. “That’s dangerous.”

Squall nodded dumbly and did it again, letting the friction tear through him. Zell’s fingers slid under the hem of his shirt and fanned out across the curve of his lower back as he moved. Guiding. Possessive. His brows furrowed like he was focusing very hard on both enjoying this and not losing control of himself. 

And Squall decided he was very interested in what would happen when he did.

Zell stopped him though and held him firmly in place. There was a deep blush painting his cheeks like a watercolor masterpiece. He took a steadying breath. “Okay. This is. Yes.  _Very_. But I need you to get off me. For my sanity’s sake.” His pupils were blown so wide his eyes looked black.

Feeling bolder than he had in years, Squall played with fire. He leaned down and let his tongue slide across the shell of Zell’s ear. “Not having fun?”

Zell _whined_. It was freeing.

“You are an _absolute terror_ and I feel like I’ve unleashed something bad on the world.” Zell’s hands slid down and squeezed his ass in retaliation. Squall shivered. Then quietly, almost embarrassed, Zell murmured, “I don’t want to think we did something because we’ve been drinking.”

That was a fair point. 

Squall pressed one last slow, chaste kiss to the softness of Zell’s mouth. Committing it to memory. Wondering if it would be the last time. One strange one-off evening that neither of them would talk about again.

They were quiet after that, laying side by side. Hesitant fingers curled around his so carefully it made his heart crack. Still unsure. Still waiting to be pushed away. 

_This could be a problem tomorrow._

When the sky started to lighten and turn gold around the edges, Squall stirred and wondered when they’d fallen asleep. Zell’s hair was curling into his face and a leg was wedged between Squall’s. 

_Or not._

“Z,” he said softly, touching his shoulder. “C’mon, we gotta get back. You need real sleep.”

The sun crept up further against the horizon and the sea turned crimson in the growing light. He helped Zell stand and lingered too close as he rubbed his eyes and steadied himself.

“Thanks,” Zell said quietly.

They didn’t speak the whole way back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, boys.
> 
> Writing playlist: Like A Star - Corinne Bailey Rae


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I have been so distracted playing the remaster of this game that I didn’t have time to write my fic about this game. It’s so much fun. Anyway! Got the next few chapters mostly written already so updates should be a little more regular. Thanks for all your kind comments! I’m so glad this remaster is bringing people back to this ship. :)

When he emerged from the water, the world exploded into life. 

It had been quiet beneath the surface, and that was why he’d stayed so long. Submerged in the peace where the noise turned down and the heaviness of his limbs could be blamed on the thickness of the sea that now rolled off his skin like liquid silver. But he needed out. He couldn’t breathe anymore. Rain fell in sheets around him with a dull hissing roar and black clouds stretched above so thick and endless he wondered if there was still a sky at all. And deep inside them, blue veins of lightning pulsed.

Zell wanted to reach out and touch them. That felt right. But they were too far away. For some reason, it seemed like he’d been able to touch them before. That bothered him. Made his fingers twitch. Farther from the water’s edge, there were footprints in the mud spilling over with rainwater. Someone else had been this way. That bothered him too. They shouldn’t be here.

_Where is here?_ A distant part of him asked. 

No one answered. Zell walked.

The path he followed led him into a thick cluster of woods with bleached and naked branches that stretched toward the clouds like the skinny arms of something starving. Scorched bark crumbled in the wind, and the chill of it cut straight through to the bone. Something had lived here once. There was an aching familiarity to it. Like returning to the place you grew up after some terrible disaster. The same, but entirely different. Difficult to reconcile what was before with what was now.

A branch snapped. Stomach churning, Zell turned too fast and slipped on wet stone. Someone grabbed his shoulders to catch his fall but they were gripping too hard. The muscle was tearing again beneath the harsh press of their thumbs. Pained, he twisted to shove them away. Sharp thorns stabbed into his spine as his back hit the rough trunk of a tree. With his heart hammering like a war drum, he raised his fists and punched forward wildly to the rhythm of his panic. Thrashing like a hunted, wounded animal.

This was it. They found him. They had him. He was back in the cave again. A heavy pressure spread across the front of his skull and he reached, reached, reached toward the sky for - 

“....ke up! Wake up!”

Zell blinked. 

The woods were gone. 

Before him, in place of thorns and growling thunder, Squall was crowded up against the wall of their hotel room. Dark blood blazed a vicious trail to his chin from his nose and he held one of Zell’s wrists in a painfully tight grip. Broken glass laid shattered across the floor and the splintered remains of a frame hung crooked on its nail.

Zell’s other hand was wrapped around Squall’s neck.

A dark feeling hooked behind his stomach like claws and twisted. It was difficult to see past the pounding of his head. He let go and stepped backwards too fast and lost his footing, barely catching himself against the edge of the bed. Putting the pieces together. Trying desperately to remember where he was just now. Hot acid burned up his throat and he forced it back down with nothing but the mortifying thought of  _ do not puke on Squall._

“Sit down and breathe,” Squall said firmly, cutting through the noise. It was his Command voice. That wasn’t a good sign. Zell nodded and tried to focus but the manic feeling was back with a vengeance, rattling like a steel bat against the bones of his rib cage. The prickling itch of being watched made him squirm and he had to remind himself it was only Squall. No one was here to hurt him. His head fell into his hands and he couldn’t get his leg to stop its frantic bouncing.

_ It’s only Squall, with a bloody face and something like fear in his eyes._

_You did that,_ a chilly part of him whispered.

“Did I hit you?” Zell’s voice came out like a croak. Tight with worry and guilt and  _fuck fuck fuck._

Carefully, Squall prodded the tender spot on his face. A purplish bruise was already forming across the apple of his cheek. “It’s not broken.”

“I’m - “

“Don’t apologize.”

Zell snapped his mouth shut and took another deep breath, fighting past the ugliness creeping under his skin, hot and uncomfortable. Squall kept his distance, and he hated that. He hated feeling like this. The dreams had been bad, but this? This was  not how he wanted that particular topic of discussion to come up. He’d been managing just fine, exercising himself ragged so he’d be too tired to dream, focusing on getting back to who he was, throwing himself into planning and hoping and it had been  _working_.

“Are you okay?”

Zell’s head shot up. “Am I - ? I just  _punched you in the face_ and you’re asking  _me_  \- “

“Stop. I mean it.” Squall commanded. He mopped at his nose with a bundle of tissues. They looked distressingly red in the morning light. The claws twisted again. “I want an honest answer. Are you alright?”

Swallowing hard, Zell eyed the windows. They were too open but his legs felt useless. Anyone could be staring at him just beyond what he could see. Taking notes of his reaction, ready to put him through another round of - 

“I don’t know.”

The fear was hard to describe. It felt like looking at the sun too long and when he closed his eyes he could still see its shape burned onto the back of his eyelids. A semi-transparent image projected over another: of the walls of the cave, of the snarl of teeth and spit on his face, of the flash of the light of a camera. Like something in his eye he couldn’t get out but he kept seeing it floating just at the edge of his vision, all day, every day. 

Slowly, telegraphing every movement clearly so it didn’t startle Zell, Squall moved to shut the curtains. “Is that better?”

And fuck if that wasn’t an immediate relief. Darkness felt safer. Some of the weight eased. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Kadowaki had talked to him about the trauma. The possible side-effects of torture. It was the same kind of conversation they had all gotten once the war ended. Hell, even in their training days there were discussions. Because they were soldiers. Raised from a young age to withstand interrogation, to break bones and stay strong when the bones were broken back. 

Something in him always thought he knew how he’d handle it. Hyne, he’d been so so wrong.

Squall hesitated. “Can I sit or do you need space?” 

Every piece of him felt fractured. Like everything was threaded together with a single piece of string. But he didn’t know how to ask for what he wanted (to be held, to be safe) so Zell just scooted over lamely and the brush of their shoulders when Squall sat down was like a cool balm on a sunburn. 

“How long have you been dealing with this?”

When he shrugged, Squall gave him a look that could have peeled paint. “ _Zell_  \- “

“That’s never happened before! I’ve been having bad dreams, but that’s all they’ve been. Nothing like...” What, a waking nightmare? Another hallucination? What do you call that? All it did was make him feel like he wasn’t in control of his own body again. Like he was back in the cave getting his brain fried until they could see what they wanted. Until they could poke and prod at Quetzalcoatl like a lab rat. He rested his weight a little more heavily against Squall for support and tried not to be embarrassed about how needy he felt.

“So it’s getting worse and you didn’t tell anyone.” Squall’s voice was an anchor, even when it had a sharp unhappy edge. Zell focused on its cadence as he spoke. Deep and grounded. It brought reality back to something that made some kind of sense. “That’s absolutely irresponsible, Z.”

A thick lump formed in Zell’s throat, face hot with shame. “Didn’t want to worry anybody ‘s’all.” Which sounded stupid as soon as he said it and Squall clearly had the same thought. And hell, Zell forgot how cold that glare could be. 

It was just that there was an emptiness inside him that he didn’t understand and he was too afraid to think about it. 

“I’m not trying to make you feel worse,” Squall said evenly. Carefully, he took Zell’s hand and inspected the damage to his knuckles. A chunk of glass had cut deep. Zell hadn’t even realized. “I know how hard it is. But we can’t help you unless we know what’s going on.”

There was no way Squall would have taken ‘but I don’t know what’s going on’ as an acceptable answer. And he was right. Of course he was. Commander Squall knew everything, even when Regular Squall didn’t. But it wasn’t that easy. This was part of the job. If Zell couldn’t do that part anymore, if he couldn’t cope, what’s to say he could do any of it? A cold fear slithered through his veins. This was his whole life. They couldn’t take that from him.

“I’ll be fine. Won’t happen again.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No, but - “

“So you can’t make that promise - “

“Squall, please,” Zell begged. It was mortifying. He focused very hard on keeping the room from closing in and crushing him and it took every ounce of pride he had left not to grab the man by the shirt and cry,  _please don’t doubt me. I’ll break if you do._

Something dark flashed across Squall’s face. Like a storm cloud whipping in on a winter breeze. It’s fierceness threw Zell off balance. But it wasn’t anger coloring the twist of his mouth. Same furrowed brows, trademark clenched jaw, but the meaning seemed like something else entirely.

Then, he gave in. “Okay.”

Of course that wouldn’t be the end of it, but for now Squall covered Zell’s bloody hand with his own. The warm greenish glow of the cure made Zell shiver, and in a moment the cut was winding itself back together. Good as new. And just like that, the Commander went away. The mask was ripped off and he found his Squall underneath. Looking unsure. Gentle touch lingering for just a moment too long before he stood abruptly and paced to the door.

“Lay back down. I’ll get breakfast.”

And then he was gone. Radiating anxious energy. Clenching and unclenching his fists. 

Zell let himself fall back against the pillow. Too tired to sleep. When they got back to Garden, he was sure Squall would have to report it. Which meant Kadowaki would want to talk. Which meant he had to figure out how to explain why it felt like there was a rope wrapped around his spine that kept pulling from somewhere far away, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t feel the magic in him anymore. 

And maybe she already knew. The strict no magic, no summons rule had been in place while he physically recovered and that made sense, but it had been long enough now that there had to be another reason for keeping it in place. 

Maybe she would tell him if he asked. But the answer was scary and he wasn’t ready to face that yet. 

_ “If I step in one more puddle I’m just gonna lay down and die,” Zell complained, shoes squishing as he walked. The winding cavernous halls went on forever and he was sure they were going in circles. Everything looked the same. Dark stone, bare walls, damp floor. The constant drip from the holes in the ceiling made him cringe and a thick stuffiness made the air heavy. How this place managed to be so goddamn humid was one of a hundred mysteries surrounding this mess of a day. _

_Another one of them was how Squall wasn’t absolutely having a heat stroke in that jacket. And why Squall insisted they draw as much float magic as they could get their hands on, which he still hadn’t explained beyond, “I have a hunch.” The bubbling feeling settled into Zell’s bones like something fizzy and carbonated and it did nothing to cure his restlessness. There were monsters to take out but nothing they couldn’t handle and he was itching for a real fight. His mind was heavy with so much magic that he could feel the GF curl and stretch like a buzzing vibration in the front of his skull. Could GF get chubby from too much magic? What would that even look like?_

_“You’d probably just lay down in one and that would be worse,” Quistis said drily, pulling Zell out of trying to picture Ifrit with a beer gut. Long strands blonde hair curled up and stuck to her neck. Somewhere further ahead, Squall had his head bent over the map with a pointed focus reserved for the most intricate needlework. He hadn’t said more more than “left” or “right” or “forward” in what felt like ages. Zell couldn’t tell if it was just the general stoicism that made him seem confident or if Squall really did know what he was doing. Hard to tell. A lot was hard to tell about their squad leader. Quistis deferred to his judgement and seemed to trust his decisions thus far. But even though she wasn’t an instructor anymore, something about this still felt like a test._

_“Check on him, would you?” She said as she wiped the sweat off her forehead. “He’s too quiet.”_

_Zell wanted to ask how this was any different than normal was but he stifled the remark and caught up with Squall as he stood in the center of another crossing. Whatever he was murmuring under his breath was too quiet to understand. Carefully, Zell laid a hand on his shoulder._

_“Hey, you wanna take a break or something?”_

_Squall blinked and looked up like he’d forgotten he wasn’t alone. Then, his eyes darted to Zell’s hand, which Zell moved so fast you would have missed it if you blinked. “Sorry. No touching, gotcha.”_

_Squall furrowed his brow and tilted his head to the side. But he still wasn’t saying anything and he sure had a habit of doing that a lot, didn’t he?_

_“We could - “_

_“No,” Squall said finally. “We’re almost there.”_

_“Where?” Zell took a peek at the map. It looked older than old. Some relic Caraway probably bought with his pocket change, (which was more money than Zell would see in an entire year of a SeeD salary). The edges were worn and the gold leafing of the border looked like an ornate filigree. The map seemed simple enough to follow, but something about these halls made it very easy to get turned around. Half the struggle was remembering which direction they’d been going after a fight and not getting turned around._

_There was a dead end on the far right of the page that Squall pointed at. “There,” he said. “Don’t know what it is but it has to be something useful. You don’t fill a tomb with empty rooms.”_

_“Just a billion empty halls,” Zell whined. Then, he popped up onto the balls of his feet and shook out some of the jitters. “Hey, I read a book about this place once. It’s super interesting. Wanna hear about it?”_

_And wow this was maybe the longest Squall had let Zell stand next to him like ever? And it was kind of nice? The usual general discomfort was coming off the man in waves, but still. Baby steps. Maybe someday they’d actually get along, or even, god forbid, be friends. Which was an almost comically absurd thought. Squall was everything Zell wasn’t. What would they ever have in common that wasn’t the job?_

_But then Squall did something completely out of character and said, “Sure.”_

_For a second, Zell blanked. Because that intense focus was suddenly trained on him like what he had to say was worth listening to and it was a little hard to think under that kind of weight._

_Squall’s eyes were so pale they almost looked grey. Huh. Zell hadn’t noticed that before._

_“So, uh.... Right! The tomb was supposedly built for Dollet’s last emperor. It’s kind of lost to time what his name was, because no one wanted to talk about it because everyone thought saying a dead king’s name was some kind of bad luck. We don’t know much about his life either, since a lot of the historical texts were lost when Centra’s library burned in the last Lunar Cry. But! There are rumors that some kind of spirits watch over his resting place. Which kind of sounds like GF maybe, right? But no one has gone in deep enough to find out and live to tell the tale. Some people argue about whether this place was built to honor him...... or to keep his ghost from getting out. Ooooo. Spooky, right?”_

_A thoughtful look crossed Squall’s face._

_“Must have been a real dick if they locked him up in a place like this.”_

_Zell’s jaw dropped._

_“Hold on, was that... did you just make a joke?!”_

_For a moment, the mask was down. A twinkle brightened Squall’s eyes and Zell caught it just before Squall’s face was stuffed back in the map. “Come on, we’rewasting time.”_

The Brothers were one of Zell’s favorite junctions. They fit with him immediately. He hadn’t had them when he was taken, and that was probably for the best. But he’d been thinking about that fight a lot lately. About how Squall had been right to stock all that magic. And about how he could relate to the feeling of floating helplessly just above the place where all his power was. 

If he could just get his feet back on the ground.

His stomach roiled. He almost didn’t make it to the bathroom before he threw up. The retching made his sides burn but being empty was almost cathartic. Sometimes he could still taste the poison they kept filling him with and he didn’t know if he’d ever be able to puke it all out. 

“Maybe we should hold off on drinking again until we get this figured out,” Squall said gently from the doorway. He sat down on the floor with Zell and gave him a glass of water and some ice to chew on. And maybe he was just really out of it but damn, water was so good. 

“Are You Hungover Or Is It The Trauma would be the  _worst_ gameshow,” Zell mumbled from where he pressed his face into his knee to make the room stop spinning. 

Squall hummed in agreement. Soothing circles pressed warm and steady against Zell’s back and he almost melted into the touch. “What would the prizes even be?”

Zell snorted. “Therapy.”

That was rewarded with a huff of laughter. It was such a nice sound. Before Zell could stop himself, he fell sideways and burrowed into Squall’s side. Pride be damned. 

“Hey,” Squall said with soft surprise. Hesitantly, his arm fell across Zell’s shoulders like a safety blanket. “We’ll get this figured out.” 

It would be nice to believe that. Maybe he would. Someday. 

“That sounds fake, but okay.”

“I mean it. Come on.” Squall flicked his temple playfully. “When have I ever let you down?”

Hyne, Zell liked him  _ so much._

“Whatever you say, Boss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really love Tomb of the Unknown King. Always one of my favorite levels. And a perfect excuse to explore backstory moments of when hero worship becomes more like genuine budding feelings. #ZellKnewFirst 
> 
> Writing Playlist: Karuna - Peter Silberman


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back from vacation! For being so wonderful and patient, I wrote an extra long one for you. Longest chapter yet! We’re making some Big Plot Moves today, my friends. Enjoy. :)

As they made the drive back to Garden, Squall made plans.

There were very few things he knew for certain and a lot of frustrating unknowns between it all. The first and foremost was that Zell was struggling a lot more than he was letting on and he absolutely did not want to talk about it. Which was probably the most unsettling goddamn thing since they found him starving in that cave. Because Zell was never hesitant to tell anyone about anything. From his problems to his favorite cards to his complex thoughts on candle smells, Zell was like a pot constantly boiling over with opinions. If he wasn’t talking about it, it was bad. 

The morning only confirmed it. A dark black vacancy had filled Zell’s eyes so wholly it didn’t look like him at all. And the scariest part was, Squall had felt it too. Whatever it was that set Zell off had woken Squall up just before all hell broke loose. These dreams kept linking them together. 

Which brought him to the second point on the list: Squall was sure now more than ever that Kadowaki had to know more than she was saying. So that would be his first stop today. It was time to assert a little Command privilege and get some goddamn answers. 

(The last thing on the list was the knowledge that going back to the real world where things weren’t all soft moonlight and ocean views would feel a lot like he imagined getting a deeply rooted tooth pulled would feel. Which didn’t have a ton of relevance to the main issue at hand, but still.)

When they parked and walked back toward the gate together, Squall wasn’t sure what to say, or what to do with his hands, or whether or not they would talk about this again. He wondered how much Zell remembered. (Hoping was a dangerous sport.) He was caught between nervously asking if Zell wanted to get lunch tomorrow and nervously declaring he was going to leave the country forever so he’d never have to face the man again when a high pitched voice called out to them. 

“My favorites! You’re back!” Selphie waved from the top of the stairs and scurried down to meet them. She threw her arms around Zell’s neck and leaped into his arms like a happy little sister. The two of them spun around in a whirlwind of laughter and sometimes Squall forgot they weren’t actually related. It used to drive him insane how chatty and off the walls they were together. Now, it was almost sweet. 

“Did you have a nice weekend?” Selphie asked as her feet met the ground again. A smear of blue paint cut across her forehead and the apron tied tightly around her waist was a mess of color and dust. 

“Yeah,” Zell said. Squall probably imagined the soft edge to his voice. “We did.”

“Good! Hey, if you’re not busy later tonight, I could really use a hand with some decorations? _Someone_ , and I am not naming names but it starts with an ‘I’ and probably translates to ‘clumsy’ in some dead language, knocked over one of the metal displays I was going to use on the stage for the graduation ceremony and now it’s all bent out of shape, and since you made it I was hoping you could help with the repair....”

Her voice trailed off as she started walking back toward the building. Zell hesitated. Then, he turned and shot Squall a little wave. “Talk later?” Before waiting for an answer, he turned and scurried after Selphie. 

That was good. Right? 

Maybe. 

Whatever. 

Purpose filled his steps as he made his way straight to the infirmary. He had no idea what he was going to say. It wasn’t like he was there to make accusations. Kadowaki was a damn good doctor and a sweet woman. She would never intentionally mislead. But even if she hadn’t come to a conclusion yet, he needed to know where things stood.

She was seated across from a student in one of the exam rooms when Squall stepped into the lobby. The kid looked familiar. Rust-colored curls and pale skin dusted with freckles. Between his hands, he twisted a piece of his shirt nervously. Squall couldn’t hear what they were saying but it seemed like counseling. A lot of the time, students came down just to chat and get some advice. The doctor nodded and scribbled something in her notebook. When she glanced up at Squall, she pursed her lips. Then, she stood and guided the student out. “Let me know if anything changes, okay? I’ll see you next week, Felix.”

_Ah. Felix Winters._

One of the students who had been with Zell during the attack. He had been stone cold during his testimony. Detached, almost dissociative. Now, watery eyes narrowed and avoided Squall’s as he passed. 

“I was wondering if I’d see you soon,” the doctor remarked, pulling Squall away from the thought. 

“I take it you know what I’m here about, then.”

There was something grave about the way she nodded. Without much ado, she led him back to her dispensary. Vials of multicolored potions hung in neat and tidy rows along the main wall, and a wide cabinet filled with bandages and surgical tools rested snugly beneath them. On her desk in a sturdy clear box, multiple bottles of blue liquid were locked away. Kadowaki pulled on a thick pair of gloves. Then, she unlocked the box and unstoppered one of the bottles to get a sample with a dropper. The bit of blue was squeezed onto a glass slide and shuffled beneath the lens of her microscope.

“Is that...?” Squall shivered.

“Yes.” She motioned him toward the chair. “Take a look.”

Hesitantly, Squall sat and looked down into the eyepiece. The composition of the poisonous formula was strange. Tiny cells like chains braiding in and out of each other. This had been pumped into Zell for weeks. A crude sort of nutritional concoction, among other things, keeping him alive enough to test on. The whole thing made Squall’s skin crawl. “What am I supposed to be seeing here exactly?”

“Nothing yet,” she said mildly. “It’s not active on its own. From what I can tell, it’s a sort of modified potion. When it meets the bloodstream though, it has a nasty way of getting stuck in circulation.” The glass slide  was replaced by another. “Now this is a sample I took from Zell at his last checkup.”

The smear of blood under his eye looked paler than it should have. As he twisted the side dial to focus his view, he could see the braids of the formula pulsing in the sample. It twisted around the blood cells like a slithering parasite. 

“This is recent?” Squall felt sick. “Is this killing him?”

“No. Well, not exactly. But it’s changing him. It’s doesn’t seem to be contagious. There’s no way of anyone else getting it from him. And it’s not growing or spreading anymore. But his body can’t get what’s already inside him out.“

“We don’t have an antidote for something like this? Shouldn’t an esuna do the trick?” 

“In theory, but we’ve tried it. I’ve thrown everything we have at it and nothing takes.”

Squall’s teeth ground together. Trying to steady the anger making fists in his chest. “What is it changing?”

The pause felt heavy. 

“From what I can tell, it’s interfering with his ability to do magic and maintain junctions.”

The chair scraped loudly against the tiled floor as Squall stood fast. “You cleared him for field duty, knowing that? What the _fuck_ were you thinking?”

“I made it very clear to him that it wasn’t safe yet - “

“But you didn’t tell him why.”

“I don’t know what to tell him! I don’t know what will happen the next time he casts and I’m trying not to scare him by throwing this in his face without a solution.”

“You don’t think that _alone_ is something he needs to know? What right do you have to keep that from him? Fucking hell, if he - “

“ _Squall_.” She said in exasperation. “He won’t consent to an MRI.” That took the wind out of his sails. Took all his words, too. Squall stood dumb for a moment. Clearly he wasn’t the only one Zell wasn’t telling everything to. “I can’t move forward until he does. What they did to him has him terrified of any more mental testing.”

“...So you just don’t know enough.” 

“I don’t know enough.” A sharp frustration edged her sigh as she agreed. There was no nefarious plot to all of this, no secrets being kept on purpose. Zell was just too afraid to let anyone into his head like that again. “I need your help if I’m going to figure this out. We have to see the whole picture and correct the problem before any damage becomes permanent.”

And then she talked. Explaining the science of it all. And Squall listened. Trying to understand. When the formula hit the brain, she explained (from what she could hypothesize, at least), it somehow interrupted the mind’s ability to process magic in the cerebral cortex. It was possible they had wanted to lower Zell’s defenses so they could study him more easily. But if their true goal was the GF, why go to the trouble of suppressing its abilities? Regular overdoses of the formula had likely built up in Zell’s system over time, and since his body couldn’t filter it out of his bloodstream, the tiny poisonous links reached out and stuck themselves to whatever they could find. 

Using magic drew a lot of blood up to the brain. If enough of that poison clustered in Zell’s frontal lobe - 

The PA system chimed. “Commander, please report to the bridge immediately.” Nida’s voice crackled over the speaker near the door. He sounded tense. “It’s urgent.”

Striding across the room, Squall thumbed the button for the bridge and barked back, “This is Squall. What the hell happened?”

The next voice he heard was Quistis. And she was in absolutely no mood for his tone. “We’ve received an emergency distress call. I’ve already accepted the contract. We need to move on this right now. Quistis out.”

Squall ran.

The bridge was a mess of commotion. Quistis was talking rapidly over her comms as Nida gave orders to his bridge crew to prep the Ragnarok for travel. Several SeeDs clustered around a conference table and a runner was already picking up a stack of envelopes to deliver briefs to the field team. Squall pushed his way to the map and got a short look at their destination before Quistis grabbed him by the arm and hauled him away from the hub of traffic.

_Gone for two days and all hell breaks loose_.

“Since when do we take contracts without my approval?” Squall scolded. 

“Since it’s time-sensitive and I couldn’t afford to gamble on how badly you’ll react.”

“...What the hell does that mean?”

It wasn’t often Quistis was reluctant to say something, but now she paused. So it must have been a big deal. Which was probably for the best. They hadn’t had a large contract in a while and could definitely use the money. But after a long suffering sigh, she pinched the bridge of her nose and fixed him with a tired look.

“There was an attempt on the Sorceress’s life.”

For a moment, a cold wave crashed against his spine and pulled him under. Squall’s heart did something sharp and uncomfortable. 

“Is she...?”

“She’s alive. We’ve got a source on the inside who’s keeping her safe.”

He snatched the folder out of Quistis’s hand and skimmed the report. If his fingers were trembling, he was doing a very good job ignoring it. “Have they lost their fucking minds?”

“The fallout of the war hasn’t been positive. Even with the good she’s trying to do, there are still some who think she’ll turn out like the rest. She knew the risks when she chose to make her status public.” Quistis gave him a stern look. “I understand if you want to sit this one out and - “

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m being realistic. The attackers have barricaded themselves inside Caraway mansion with Rinoa trapped in with them. The Galbadian military is surrounding the building on a very tenuous standby with orders from Caraway himself not to move in until the SeeD get his daughter out. It’s an extremely delicate situation.”

“Of which I am very skilled at handling.” 

According to their intel, there were reports of magic suppression. Was it possible there was a connection..?

“Squall.” Her tone of voice made him focus. “There’s a clear conflict of interest here. I want you to think very seriously about whether or not you really trust that you can do this with a clear head.”

He blinked. She had a point. But no, he couldn’t afford to be a coward right now. He needed to do this himself.

“My history with the area will give us an advantage. I will lead the infiltration team and you will monitor progress from here. You’re in charge while I’m gone. Am I understood?”

She frowned and nodded. They would talk about this later. But Squall used his Command voice and she knew that meant for now it was final. “Understood, Commander.”

Zell caught up with him in the hallway, falling into step. The usual buzz of curious students when a SeeD call came in flooded the halls. The two of them cut clean through the middle. 

“I read the brief,” Zell started.

“You’re not coming.”

“Hilarious.”

“You’re not. I’m serious, Zell. You still need to see the doctor and I’m not risking - “

“Squall. Magic suppressor. You know what that means? I’ve got the best goddamn non-magic skillset on staff and that’s a fact. And I’m not supposed to do magic right now anyway, so it won’t be a handicap for me. There are no downsides. You’d be an idiot to leave me behind and you’re not an idiot so I’m coming and that’s final.”

_You’d be able to keep an eye on him, if anything did happen._

“......”

“Great. So fill me in. What’s the plan?”

“Small infiltration team and a gunman to pick off stragglers.” Irvine was the obvious choice. It would surely be an improvement from whatever he wasn’t doing today. 

They took the elevator down. “So go in the front with fire support from above? That’s...not my favorite idea.”

Squall rolled his eyes. “Obviously not. You still remember your way around those sewers?”

Zell hummed thoughtfully. “Not a well known entrance, totally likely they would have missed it.” He grinned. “Sneak in and avoid getting caught in any crossfire. There’s a plan I can get behind.” 

“This better be damn good,” Irvine complained loudly. “I was in the middle of something important.”

“Nice shirt,” Zell quipped. The buttons were half done and completely wrong.

“Like I said.”

“We don’t have time for this. Meet us at the Ragnarok in ten,” Squall barked. Irvine stood up straight immediately. 

“Sir, yes sir.” He saluted and stalked off to get his gun. Moving with a little more purpose. It was easy to mistake Irvine’s general  _everything_ for a lack of intelligence. He wasn’t stupid by any means. (If anything, he was maybe a little too thoughtful for his own good.) He just moved at a different pace than everyone else. Snipers weren’t on the front lines and didn’t have the same sense of urgency. They were hunters. And usually hunting meant a lot of sitting around. Under Squall’s careful coaching, he had gotten better about focusing since the end of the war. Keeping him in line was the trick. When he had his shit together, he was a strong asset.

Just down the way, Irvine tripped. 

Zell snorted.

_Almost made it._

Selphie was considerably more put together than her other half had been, as she always was. She wasn’t covered in paint anymore either. Waiting at the ship with a bag of supplies and her nunchucks chained to her hip in case they needed more backup. They deployed as soon as they were all aboard and then it was a waiting game. The trip wouldn’t be long with the Ragnarok but it was still too much time to think. Selphie and Irvine chatted away in the cockpit while Zell warmed up.

And Squall paced. Back and forth, stressing himself in circles. Because soon he would be staring his ex-wife in the face. This wasn’t the kind of reunion he would have imagined, if he let himself imagine things like that. Which he  deliberately did not. It felt like picking at a scab; if he pulled up the edges enough there would be blood underneath and he wasn’t quite ready to bleed out about that again right now. 

_But it’s not my choice anymore, is it? The request didn’t come from the Galbadian military or else they would have sent G-Garden. It must have come directly from her._

_...All this time and she still thinks I’ll be her knight._

Eventually he forced himself to sit down and think of something else before he drove himself crazy. Listening to the steady rhythm of Zell’s quick and repetitive breaths would have to do. When he focused, Zell was like a different person. Sharpening his body the way Squall would his blade. He had taken his jacket off and he was working himself hard, throwing a flurry of short jabs at an imaginary opponent. 

There was so much they needed to talk about, and no words for any of it. 

Squall cleared his throat and looked away when Zell caught him staring. 

Their plan was short and to the point. Get to Caraway’s through the sewers. Clear the resistance inside with front side distraction and fire support from Irvine. Secure the sorceress and their informant and use the Ragnarok to take them back to the safety of Garden. Then, let Caraway and the Galbadians rain holy hell on any remaining forces. 

A lot could go wrong. 

Getting into the city was easy, at least. The soldiers at the gate sent word ahead that their party arrived and Caraway gave the okay for them to access the route they needed. An escort got them through the checkpoints on the way. The military presence was overwhelmingly heavy, and they had given orders that civilians weren’t to be on the streets. It felt like a war zone.

For as dangerous as attacking the Sorceress directly had been those years ago, Squall decided as he carefully shimmied across a thin black railing that slumming it through the sewers had been the infinitely worse of the two jobs that day. (And he had been stabbed through the chest. So that was saying something.) Their footsteps echoed as they made their way beneath the city toward the mansion. The walkways were clean at least, and the path Zell took them down was blessedly short. But any sewer was a little too much sewer for Squall’s taste. 

_“First,”_ Irvine’s voice crackled happily over the radio.

“It wasn’t a race!”

_“Yeah it was.”_

“You wanna trade jobs here?” Zell snapped as they crossed another rusting ladder he had knocked off the wall. “Because we can trade.”

_“Nah, I’m good,”_  Irvine drawled.  _“Y’all got it covered.”_

A dim green glow from cobwebbed sconces cast grated shadows across the stairway. They crept up quietly and Zell searched the wall for the hidden lock release. Once they reached the door, Squall listened. Just a few voices inside, talking too low to make out anything useful. A crash. A curse. Searching for something, then. Probably a blueprint for the building. 

“Ready?”

Squall nodded. Zell pulled the lever. The wall to the office spun open and there was time for one breath before all hell broke loose. 

There were five inside. Two hunched over Caraway’s safe, a few others digging through drawers and bookshelves. Their uniforms looked painfully familiar. Zell threw the first punch and Squall was close behind. And in all his life, Squall had never found someone he fought so well in tandem with. Half the battle they could read each other’s minds; when he stumbled, Zell’s solid back was there to use as a springboard. When he turned, Zell went with him, twisting around each other like a deadly machine.

The other half of the battle, though, was not what he wanted. 

When the hallway door slid open, Zell took off like a shot without hesitation, pushing the first man through back with a hard kick to the stomach. The force knocked him into the reinforcements behind him, and Zell smacked the lock before disappearing behind the closing door. He isolated himself in the hall to avoid getting too overwhelmed in the office. Divide and conquer. 

Good idea in theory, but when they didn’t know how many were out there? It was impulsive and fucking  _stupid_. 

A quick count told him there were two remaining in the office. He’d seen much worse odds. They were moving in front of him like snakes ready to strike. With a wide upward arc, Squall cut through the first attacker’s stomach from navel to ribs. As blood splashed against his feet, a gun clicked behind him. 

Not two. Three. 

_Sloppy_ , he scolded himself. He was too distracted. Never lose track of the room. 

Squall threw himself sideways to avoid the volley of gunfire. As he rolled, he slashed out at the ankles of the woman by the window. She wailed in pain. Another spray of bullets sunk into the wall behind her. Squall scrambled to his feet and drove his blade into the meat of her gut.

As he whipped around to face his last target, the hard butt of the gun rammed into his stomach and knocked the wind out of him. Squall gripped his gunblade and lurched forward desperately to attack. 

Zell’s fist came out of nowhere and connected hard with the soldier’s jaw. It was so close Squall could feel the air move. With a sickening crack, the bone shattered and the soldier fell to the ground, out completely cold. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Zell breathed. He looked ragged; a smear of blood across the sharp line of his chin, hair disheveled, chest heaving with exertion. His hand brushed Squall’s cheek with a tenderness that was completely absurd from someone who just  _demolished a man’s jaw_. “You okay?” 

His gunblade clattered to the ground. 

The surprised sound Zell made got lost in the searing kiss Squall pulled him into. 

The rational part of him knew this was absolutely not the time for this but fucking  _hell_. Seeing Zell in action again got so deep under his skin he could feel it in his bones and in the back of his mind, as adrenaline pulsed through his veins and his tongue slipped hotly into Zell’s mouth, he thought of the time Rinoa had teased him about having a  serious thing for efficiency.

When they broke, Squall shoved him hard. “Don’t you  _ever_ do that again.” 

“If that’s what happens when I do,” Zell said in a breathless daze, “then I’m  definitely doing that again.”

Someone coughed. 

Squall blinked and peered behind Zell, who’s face was suddenly so red he looked sunburnt. A man in dress blues gave him a small salute. “Oh yeah,” Zell said, voice high and tight. “Found him.”

_Smooth_.

“You’re our inside source?” Squall said, regaining his composure and pretending with a high degree of efficiency that he hadn’t just pounced his squadmate. 

“Yes, sir. Sergeant Grant Halliwell, Galbadian Army. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He put out his hand. Squall didn’t take it. Zell shot him a look. 

“Is the Sorceress safe?” This wasn’t great. They had assumed he was with the Rinoa. If she was on her own... 

“Yes, sir.” Grant checked the bullets in his gun, spinning the chamber with flair. “I saw her not ten minutes ago. She sent me out for intel.”

“And you took that order and left her alone in a house full of hostiles?” 

The sergeant met his gaze unflinchingly. “Yes I did. If I didn’t go, she would have. I know when to back down from an impossible fight. Sir.”

Squall pursed his lips. “Fair point.” Most stubborn person he’d ever met. She would probably say the same of him. “What have you learned?”

“Not as much as I’d hoped. They’re not any military I recognize, but they’re definitely not green. An organized operation. Very clear intentions. And.” He looked troubled. “There’s some kind of magical interference. I would guess there’s a device planted somewhere. She can’t cast.” 

He had felt it too. Like a thick grogginess he couldn’t wake up from. Just like before. His suspicions had been confirmed the moment he walked into that office.

This was the same group.

“So they want to study the GF and they don’t like the Sorceress.” Zell leaned down to inspect one of the bodies and ripped a patch off their jacket with a little too much force. A hollow expression darkened his face. “Sensing any through-line here?”

An anti-magic agenda, then? That made sense. Of course there would be some who had been burned too badly by the last two wars to be comfortable with widespread magic use, and there had always been whispers about the dangers of junctions. It was a narrow and entirely ignorant point of view, but not completely incomprehensible. All of this put the kidnapping and the torture into a new perspective. Squall clenched his jaw. 

This just got a whole lot messier. 

On the other hand, it was a step closer to making them pay. Zell’s expression was unreadable but the stone stiffness of his shoulders said enough. Squall’s hands twitched.

_I will slaughter anyone who ever lays a hand on you again._

“Where is she now?”

“There’s a wine cellar in the pantry. The door is a false wall, so they haven’t found it yet.”

Of course it was. Caraway loved his tricks. Squall rolled his eyes.

“You any good with that?” He gestured to the man’s gun. It was ornately carved with a barrel like a serpent. Seemed more like a show piece than anything, but Grant twirled it expertly. 

“Top of my class.”

_Weren’t we all?_

Squall took a moment to take stock of him. Tall and on the leaner side. Likely trained in hand to hand, but definitely not his preference judging by his build. Dark hair was slicked back neatly from his face and a thin mustache bordered the fullness of his upper lip. A small scar cut across his chin and his dark eyes held a steady gaze with no hint of insecurity. His voice had a twinge of a Dollet origin. 

There was potential there. They’d see if he lived up to it.

Then, Squall stopped himself. 

Maybe he was being more than a little biased because they’d stomped Galbadia into the ground during the war and the Galbadian soldier he knew the best was mostly a moron. (A moron who somehow overthrew a sorceress and took charge of an entire country. What a world.) But he was an ally now. You can’t win a battle if you don’t trust the people at your side.

“Alright. Take point and lead us there. We go in quiet. Zell, round us out and watch our backs. I don’t want any surprises.”

When the sergeant popped out the door to check that the coast was clear, Zell took the opportunity to press a warm hand against the curve of Squall’s spine. It dragged over the waistband of his pants and soft lips moved against his ear as he spoke. “I always love watching your back.” Then, with a wink and a grin, he darted out to scout the other end of the hall. 

_...What have I gotten myself into?_

It was strange being here again. Rinoa never liked it and she and her father still didn’t get along, so they hadn’t made too many visits before she and Squall separated. General Caraway was a very tricky man to read. While he had admired Squall’s accomplishments as a soldier and a leader, he didn’t care much for him otherwise. He believed both that Rinoa was too good for him and that his higher duty was too important for her. “ _Men like us,_ ” he had said once, “ _We weren’t made for pretty things. We are the walls around the flowers, so someone else can stop and smell them. The sooner you remember that, the better off you both will be._ ”

_Guess you were right, old man._

After the war, Caraway had returned to service to the Galbadian Army. Since the possessed Edea was removed from power, the country had been under martial law and as its top general, Caraway had become the de facto leader of the Galbadian government. Recently, he had announced plans to secure his position by launching a presidential campaign. (He would run unopposed, of course. That’s how Galbadia was.) He made a public dedication to a more secure country, and Resistance groups had mixed ideas on what that meant; some believed it would be worse than before with the military tightening it’s stranglehold, while others hoped it would mean more focus on the homeland and less aggressive expansion, leading to an easing up of presence in the annexed territories. 

It wasn’t an ideal situation by any means. But at least Caraway wasn’t completely unreasonable. Squall hoped this would be a chance to forge less animosity between the countries. And, somewhere far down the line, a path toward the return of Galbadia’s democracy.

When they reached the pantry, Grant pulled at the can on the top right shelf and the entire bit of wall popped out and swung open. They descended the stairs and the wall shut behind them and at the bottom, looking anxiously down the sights of her weapon, was Rinoa. 

“Grant!” She dropped her arm and ran for him, throwing herself into his embrace.

Which...

Oh.

That's why he looked familiar. He was the mystery man from the tabloids. 

Grant cradled her face in his hands and it made Squall’s stomach itch. “Any trouble?”

“I’m fine.” Tonight she was in true Sorceress regalia, with extravagant blue and gold makeup painting her features gracefully. Her hair was longer than the last time he saw her, and an elegant sparkling dress was torn off at the knee, likely so she could run faster. “What did you find? Did you get.....“ 

Voice trailing off, her eyes found Squall.

The silence that followed was suffocating. 

For the first time since it all fell apart, they were standing in the same room. 

“You’re here,” Rinoa said.

“You called,” Squall replied.

“I didn’t expect you to come.”

“Of course we did.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

_Not ‘we’. Just ‘you’._

A tightness pulled inside him like a wire ready to snap. His throat closed up with anxiety and he knew he was sweating. He didn’t know what he had been expecting from seeing her again but it definitely hadn’t been this. 

Because overwhelmingly, Squall realized he _missed_ her.

It wasn’t that he wanted to fall to his knees and beg her for forgiveness, to kiss her or take her back and be happily married again. That wasn’t it at all. It was just... 

Strange. 

They had planned a _life_ together . She was the first person he had ever kissed, the first person he’d slept with. She knew him better than almost anyone, had helped him overcome some of his deepest anxieties and learn to trust. Brought sunlight to his life at a time he had so desperately needed it. And she had always been willing to listen. He missed that the most. She used to be so easy to talk to, before things started to crumble.

And it wasn’t entirely her fault things fell apart. She had pushed too hard but he had been distant. He had been afraid. He didn’t know how to balance what he wanted with what was expected of him then, and maybe he still didn’t. But no matter what, she would always be his first love, and that meant something. He still loved her, even if he wasn’t still  _in_ love with her.

“Thank you for coming.” The sad smile she gave him was edged with remembrance. Someday he’d give her the apology she deserved. 

She turned to gather up her things and Grant followed, giving Squall a moment of privacy. The sergeant had to have known when they met who he was. It’s not every day your sorceress girlfriend’s Garden Commander ex-husband shows up to save her from a cult hell-bent on her assassination.

And that kiss he’d seen. Hell. That whole encounter was dripping just with uncomfortable energy. 

“So.” Zell took a few steps toward him. It felt hesitant. Careful. His hands were stuffed in his pockets like he was trying not to reach out and touch him. What was he thinking? Had he been fearing this as much as Squall had? “What’s our next move?”

 _It takes real talent to make every single person in a room feel bad but damn if I’m not an expert._  

“When this is over, we will talk about this.” Because hell if it didn’t hurt. It was confusing and heavy and he needed to get his head on right but there just wasn’t time right now. He couldn’t afford to be distracted when so much was at stake. “I promise.”

Zell nodded but didn’t look him in the eye and that felt like a twist of the knife. Squall took a breath and steeled himself. 

_Focus on what you can fix right now._

“Alright. Safe extraction is our top priority. Any thoughts?”

Rinoa handed him a piece of paper. “I drew a map of the nearest exits. Grant scouted them out and these,” she circled two locations, “are the points of least resistance.”

“That’s helpful. Thank you.” He looked them over. Irvine was set up in a nest across the way of the main entrance. Taking that path was suicide, even with the fire support from above. There would be heavy resistance, even if the Galbadian army decided it was tired of waiting for the SeeD to do their job and moved into a more offensive position. All the fighting left the risk of being caught in the crossfire too

A distraction though. There was an idea. 

They could split up into two teams, heading for both the back and the eastern exits. Zell and Grant would take the obvious route and make a hell of a lot of noise while Squall and Rinoa would take the more complicated way. Might be easier if they had disguises, too. Irvine could pick off a few of the assassins and draw attention up front, making the cult mercenaries believe the Galbadians were firing. They would then assemble the bulk of their forces in preparation for a large scale defense. And Squall and the team would slip out with minimal resistance. He checked in with Irvine over radio and filled him in. 

“You are to take no unnecessary risks. If all else fails, Rinoa’s safety is our number one priority. Protect her at all costs. We’ll rendezvous north outside the city. Selphie is waiting with the Ragnarok a few miles away. She’ll pick us up and fly us back to Balamb once she has confirmation we’ve made it out. Understood?”

“Yes sir,” Grant responded, giving him a small salute. “Glad you’re here, Commander.”

  _Kiss ass._

“Don’t be glad until we make it out alive.” 

First priority was securing disguises. The four emerged from the stairwell cautiously.Grant pulled up the back lines and kept his eyes behind them as Zell took point. They followed closely, not moving forward until he gave the signal. And damn if command didn’t look good on him.  

_...Most things look good on him._

Suddenly, Zell whistled short and sharp and ducked out of sight. Squall pulled Rinoa around a corner and tucked them into an alcove. Touching her was weird and being this close to her was weirder and Squall forced himself to stay focused. Boots hit the floor in uniform steps and a small troop of mercenaries passed by, carrying a polished silver box. “What is that?” Rinoa whispered.  

_The suppressor?_

This didn’t look like a patrol. What were they doing? He held up a hand for the others to stay put and Squall stalked forward to get a closer look. There were three of them. One held the box while another kept his eyes on a chunky looking device. They stopped near a wall and the one with the device nodded. The third of them drew the strange symbol from their patches on the wall with green paint. They bowed to it before opening the box and sticking something to the center. It beeped. Armed.

Explosives.

They were going to blow up the building.

Squall leaped from the shadows and swung at the closest of them, carving through the muscles of his legs near the back of his knees. Behind him, two shots rang down the hall and struck true, piercing through the skulls of the remaining men like a bullseye. Squall blinked. Maybe the gun wasn’t just for show. He turned his eyes back down and his target dragged himself across the floor, thick blood staining the plush rug. The point of Squall’s gunblade pressed into his back. “How many bombs?”

“We have to. We have to,” the man was whimpering. Again and again like a mantra. 

 “How many?!”

With a desperate sound, the man pushed himself upward, impaling himself on the blade. Squall stumbled back a few steps, horrified.

Fanatical might be a mild word for these people. 

The loud popping of gunfire rattled outside. Irvine was beginning his assault. Squall shook the horror away and snapped the front plate off the bomb, carefully disconnected the wiring and disarming it. Before the timer went dead, it read seven minutes. 

“New plan,” he said hurriedly. “Both of you, get her out of here  now. ” 

Rinoa looked at him like he grew a second head. “We can’t let them blow this place up. I won’t have it.”

“They won’t,” Squall said, examining the silver box for anything helpful. “I’ll take care of it.” 

Zell pushed in close. “That’s not an option. Doing this alone is suicide. You can’t expect us to - “

“I told you Rinoa was the priority at all costs. This is an order.  Get her out of here!” Zell stared him down for a long moment, anger boiling inside. If they all made it out, he knew he was going to get an earful of fury about this.

_If._

Teeth clenched, Zell nodded sharply and turned away, and that sinking feeling was back. Like the sun was eclipsing. And if this was the last time Squall saw that man he would haunt this world forever. Rinoa flat out refused to go, and slammed her fists against Zell’s back when he tossed her over his shoulder and ran for the eastern exit, radioing Irvine with orders to let all hell loose up front.

Squall went bounding down the hall in the other direction. The box had been empty which meant this was the last of the devices. Judging by the size of the box and assuming they were going for key structural points, there were maybe four devices total, likely all on the main floor. Luckily, the ritualism of the whole thing would make his search easier. Green paint marks the treasure. Small miracles.

He found the second bomb attached to a central support wall near the dining rooms. His hands shook as he disarmed it, hoping beyond hope he could - 

A bullet dug into his thigh. The impact rang painfully down his leg and Squall fell forward. 5:13. Ears ringing, he gathered his strength and threw himself at his attacker, tearing open his throat. Then, he staggered to his feet. Keep going. One foot, then the other. The remnants of the potion he had left wouldn’t fix it, but he downed it anyway. At least it would be enough to stop the bleeding. The wound made him slower and he couldn’t afford losing that time. 

It took him too long to find it, but the third device was nestled behind the main staircase. At 1:47 the screen went dark and his heart pounded hard in his chest. He took a guess that the last of them would be in the western wing and desperately hoped he was right. 

Counting out loud helped keep his mind off the pain. Didn’t do much to keep his mind of the fact that he was walking toward a live bomb that would go off in 60, 59, 58, but you can’t win them all. 

When he got down to 30 seconds with no bomb in sight, the numbing dread set in. Of all the places to die alone. 

20 seconds. 

He rushed toward a curve in the hallway.

15\. 

He could hear it.

12\. 

He’d never make it. 

10\. 

He turned the corner. 

  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: I hate cliffhangers  
> also me: ope, it’s a cliffhanger
> 
> Thanks for the continued support! Let’s discuss, drop me a line in those comments. :)
> 
> Writing Playlist: NFWMB - Hozier


	14. Chapter 14

“Put me down! You can’t leave him in there!” Rinoa shrieked, small fists wreaking havoc on Zell’s back. Which would definitely bruise. It was difficult running with her lashing out but the sooner he got them outside, the sooner he could go back in and drag Squall out by his stupid fucking neck.

There were a lot of things he’d tolerate to get the job done. Hair pulling, however, was the final straw.

“For fuck’s sake, knock it off!” As soon as they cleared the door, he dumped Rinoa off of his shoulder. She went down with a yelp. Grant’s reflexes kept her from hitting the ground but Zell’s feelings were very clear. “Get as far as you can. I’ll get in contact when we’re out.” He tossed them his radio and didn’t hang around for whatever they were going to argue with him about. There wasn’t time. Heart in his throat, he took off running back inside.

There was no chance in hell he was going to sit around and wait for something to blow up. The last time he’d dealt with explosives, he’d nearly let Garden get wiped off the map. Not again. Not today. Squall was a fucking idiot and Zell had never been angrier in his entire fucking life. Because this wasn’t a noble hero’s sacrifice, it was Squall caring about everyone’s life but his own and they were going to have  _words_  about that. 

He didn’t have much of a plan though. Squall had likely hit the eastern wing first, so Zell took off toward the other side of the building. And of course, the first corner he turned met resistance. He used the wall to push off and kept his frantic momentum, launching himself into the air and taking down the first of them with a lethal kick to the skull. The cultist’s neck snapped sideways and before the body even hit the ground, Zell rolled and swept his leg out to throw the other off balance. He focused his shots to their weakest points in rapid succession, fists unleashing in a blur of dizzying motion. Break the nose, crush the feet, club the ear. He could feel tension winding up tighter inside him, counting down like the world’s worst jack-in-the-box. 

Did feel good to get some revenge though. Every one of them he took down made him feel stronger. Like they all had a piece of him in their pocket like a coin and when they hit the floor he got himself back. But if he thought about that too much he might not stop. Killing would feel good. And that was dangerous. 

Even if they deserved it.

When the threat was neutralized, he heard a faint beeping and skidded to a halt to listen. Sound bounced around too much to be clear. Right or left? Like a choose your own adventure book: one wrong choice and it’s lights out.

He went left.  The hall cornered before curving back toward the front of the building and the muscles of his legs burned. Still not quite back to top form. If he made it out of this, he vowed to jog more. 

Then, he saw it. The bright green paint. A small device attached to the wall. The symbol that made his stomach lurch.

The faceplate came off with a jab of his elbow and beneath was a mess of red and black wiring. Squall had made it look so easy. Zell at least had a general idea of what he was looking at. Sort of. Like, it couldn’t be rocket science. Probably? Yikes.

20 seconds. 

He pulled a black wire. Nothing happened. Why hadn’t he paid more attention earlier? 

15.

His chest ached. He pulled another wire, hoping there weren’t more of these things two feet from here. Wouldn’t that be his luck.

12.

Clumsy footsteps clamored at the other end of the hall. Didn’t have time to worry about that right now, thanks.

_Try to kill me later, I’m busy._

10.

In a panic, he grabbed a fistful of circuitry and gutted the thing. No wires had to be better than blowing up, right? Unless that made it blow up. Oh boy. 

The electricity shocked him but the beeping stopped. Every muscle in his body was tense for a few seconds, fully expecting to have screwed up again and for this to be his last living moment. When nothing happened, he cracked an eye open. The screen was black and everything was the kind of quiet that settled after the end of a book. Not quite sure how to go back to the real world.

“You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Hearing Squall’s voice knocked the wind out of him. It was hoarse and balancing somewhere between frustration and sheer bewilderment, like he couldn’t believe someone had the audacity to help him without him asking for it. And he never asked, because he was Squall and he’d rather lose a limb than put someone he cared about in harm’s way. 

All that cold glossy armor he kept trying to put over his heart didn’t fit.

“When have I ever let you go it alone?”

A messy darkness swarmed in Squall’s eyes like wasps. “You could have been killed,” he spat, mouth twisted into an ugly snarl.

And then Zell remembered how fucking  angry he was. It reignited like the burst of a firework. His ears were ringing. “Sorry, _I_  could have been killed? Is that the only thing you’re worried about?”

“I gave you an order - “

“A shitty order! You did not have this under control. There was  no reason you had to - “

“The mission comes before my - “

“ _Fuck the mission!_ ” He got up in Squall’s face, jabbing a finger at his chest. “If I hadn’t come back, that bomb would have killed you and  _I can’t handle that_ , you selfish son of a bitch. You may not give a shit about your life, but I do, and I am  not letting your desperate need for martyrdom win.”

Squall went pale.

Zell’s mouth snapped shut.

That was too far. Way too far. 

Panic made his throat dry. Maybe this was it. Maybe Squall would hate him forever. Neither of them had ever been good at finding the right words and as the silence stretched on Zell desperately resisted the urge to apologize.  Because Squall needed to _understand_. 

“You of all people should know that’s not what I want.” Squall said finally, rough and cold with all the jagged edges of broken glass. But then he closed his eyes tightly and swayed for a moment before falling sideways against the wall and that was when Zell noticed the bloody mess of his leg. The skin beneath the torn fabric of his pants had barely patched itself over a puckered bullet wound. From the looks of it, the round had bit deep and probably hurt like hell. Zell circled an arm around his waist to hold him steady.

“And when the fuck were you gonna tell me you got shot, huh?” He could hear his voice crack but  _fuck_. Squall looked ruined and there was something on his face that Zell was too afraid to put a name to. Something that hurt like hell to look at. “You were just gonna stand there and let me yell at you?”

Weak arms wrapped around him, and Squall buried his face into the curve of Zell’s neck. “I deserved it. I’m sorry,” he murmured. With the last of the adrenaline leaving him behind, he was shaking. It was a rare moment of vulnerability that for some reason he kept letting Zell see and that trust felt absolutely sacred. All at once, Zell melted. 

“You idiot,” he said fondly as he rubbed Squall’s back. For a moment, he let himself get lost in the warmth of it all. “When are you gonna learn?” 

Squall lifted his head like he was going to ask what he was supposed to be learning, but then he was giving Zell  _that look _again that made the world turn upside down. 

_“I hope to hell you’re out of there,”_ Irvine called over the radio,  _“because the Galbadians are moving in and those crazy motherfuckers are ducking inside like cowards.”_

A fist curled into the front of Zell’s shirt and Squall dragged him into a deep and wonderful kiss. Which had been happening a lot today and damn he could get used to it. Soft lips moved slow and wet and perfect against his. A low and needy rumble escaped his throat. Desperate heat between the breaths of battle. There were still tensions, still questions and things they needed to figure out. But for right now, as he pushed Squall roughly up against the wall, he reveled in the feeling of taking him apart.

_“Hellooooo?”_   _Can someone fuckin’ answer me ‘cause I’m flying blind over here.”_

Groaning in annoyance, Zell slipped the radio out of Squall’s pocket as the Commander laid a trail of hot kisses against the curve of his jaw. He wedged a leg between Squall’s thighs in retaliation and when Squall had the nerve to grind himself down, Zell was torn between wanting to strangle him and wanting to devour him. “We’re in one piece. Everyone safe?”

_“Is he okay?”_ Rinoa’s voice was shrill with anxiety. _“We’re heading to you, Irvine.”_

“He’s a little banged up, but I’ve got him.” His hand slid beneath Squall’s shirt, ghosting over the tight muscles of his stomach and teasing at the clasp of his belt. Squall’s head fell back for a moment and the shudder he was rewarded with felt like a gold medal. 

When this day was over, when they were safe and bullet-free...

The fighting outside crescendoed. With a shaky exhale, Squall shooed Zell’s hand away and snatched the radio. But he was almost smiling. And that put the world back together. “Rendezvous in 10. Stay sharp.”

_”Squall Leonhart if you ever - “ _ Loud crackling interrupted her. There was some kind of struggle. Then, Grant answered. _”Yes, Commander! Rinoa says be safe!”_

 _“That is not what I - !”_  The line went dead.

“How do you feel?” Zell stepped back and took stock of his condition. Posture slumped and favoring one leg. Looking a little dizzy from the initial blood loss and the aching pain that the potion didn’t soothe. (The wound would need to be reopened and given a proper treatment. He resisted the urge to scold Squall for low-dosing because messy was better than dead, but still.) Lips pink and swollen, marble skin beautifully flushed, eyes lidded anddark and - 

_Focus, dude._

“Can you walk?”

“Think you’re that good of a kisser?” Squall quipped, but then he put weight on the injured leg and nearly tumbled forward. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work.” A decision was made. If Squall wasn’t half delirious he would probably punch him in the face for it. But really, what choice did he have? 

Zell scooped him off the ground. 

“Are you fucking kidding me,” Squall yelped. It wasn’t very dignified and he would definitely deny doing it later.  _ ”Put me down.” _ __

“Easier this way!” Zell said cheerfully. Squall wasn’t exactly light; his body was packed with dense muscle and his gunblade alone was weighty. Plus, his legs went on for days and it took Zell a minute to find the best angle to cradle him in. But once he did, he trotted toward the exit with relative ease, ignoring the protests of the man in his arms. “You’d slow us down and we don’t have time for that. Unless you want a bullet in your other leg, and then I’d have to carry you anyway so I’m really just cutting out the middle step here.”

“I am going to kill you.”

“Not like this you’re not,” he cooed.

“Show off.” The tired and timid way Squall laid his head against Zell’s shoulder broke his heart. Zell vowed to make sure he slept more. 

The back door was clear. Once they were far enough away from the danger, Zell spun them in a circle before putting Squall down just because he could and when would he get that chance again? And it was worth it to see Squall’s face fight between grumpy and (even though he would never admit to it and definitely blame it on the pain) a little giddy. 

When Squall found his unsteady footing, he turned the radio on again. “Status report,” he said, with less bite than he probably meant to. Ever the Commander.

_“Two eggs in the nest,”_ Irvine drawled.

“......?”

_“Uhhhh, I’ve got Rinoa and the other guy with me.”_ The sharpshooter cleared his throat. _“You know. Sniper’s nest? Birds. Like...eggs?”_

Zell thought it was funny but Squall shushed him when he tried to say so. 

“Let Selphie know we’ll be heading her way. Get a car and stay subtle. And do something about Rinoa, she sticks out like a sore thumb.” 

_”Aye aye, Commander. Irvine out.”_

Squall insisted on walking on his own, but Zell held his arm and took most of his weight. It was getting worse, if the beads of sweat dotting his brow were anything to go by. But Squall powered through like he always did. He was never one to complain about an injury. Never wanted to draw more attention to himself than absolutely necessary. There were so many things he got away with just for lack of making noise. Not on Zell’s watch though. Not anymore. 

The streets were chaos, with troops making their way toward Caraway’s now that Rinoa was safely extracted. Zell was too nervous to try casting and it made his skin crawl with remembrance, but he reminded himself like a mantra that he could dose Squall with a full potion as soon as they reached the others. It would make the surgery later more of a chore, but the way Squall blinked too slowly and stumbled over his own feet was getting worrying. 

A horn blared and tires skidded to a halt. Irvine hopped out of the driver’s seat of the SUV that looked suspiciously not rented and helped Zell load Squall into the back. When they were all inside, the soldiers at the gate waved them through and they tore out of the city. Deling , Zell decided, was the worst.

He sat back and pulled Squall into his arms, cradling his head as he tipped a potion past his lips. Squall coughed but swallowed it down obediently, face too pale and skin hot to the touch. When Zell patted his cheek to wake him up a little, Squall groaned and his eyes wouldn’t focus. 

“Hey, stay with me, okay? Squall?”

The fever wasn’t going away. That was the bad news.

“You need to drive faster,” he shouted to Irvine, suddenly panicked. Completely possible the bullet had been poisoned. And this was where worse news came in: there was no exit wound. It was  still inside him. Zell dumped out Irvine’s bag, desperately searching for antidote but he didn’t find one. Because Irvine was  _fucking irresponsible_. Wildly he rubbed his hands together and tried to will his mind to cast. They must be far enough away from the suppressor by now. He could do it. White hot fear skittered down his spine like a skipping stone and the effort to make his body do something useful filled his gut with a boiling sea of nausea. In his head, a deep pain throbbed like a cramping muscle. 

“No magic!” Squall’s hand shot out to squeeze Zell’s wrist painfully tight. His speech was slurred. “Not y-you. Please, s’not sffff...not....fffffu...”

“ _Let_ _go_ , I need to help you - “

“Stop,” Rinoa said softly. “Let me.”

Quietly she climbed into the back seat, hands already glowing. The honey sweet smell of warm magic filled the car. Her brows furrowed as she scanned Squall’s body. “Definitely poison,” she confirmed, voice carrying that dreamy quality of channeling an intangible power. “I’m going to keep him steady and you need to get that bullet out.” Her power was returning and Zell was so fucking overwhelmed that he was thankful for the order. Grant passed back a small curved knife he wore at his belt and helped hold Squall’s legs down. The air got heavier and Rinoa’s focused power was enough to stop the poison from progressing.

_Sure. Just cut open his leg in the back of a stolen car speeding down a bumpy road. Don’t kill him. No problem._

“Ready,” Rinoa said and that was his cue. The second the blade pressed into the rough skin of the wound, Squall’s eyes flew open. Grant pressed down hard on thrashing legs and Zell prayed he didn’t get elbowed in the teeth. He finished the incision quickly and then came the part that made him cringe. With one hand, he spread the wound open and with the other he dug his fingers in to find the bullet. Squall howled through clenched teeth. Finally, his fingers closed on the metal round and he pulled it out with as much care as he could. 

He had seen entirely too much of Squall’s blood the last two days.

A burst of light from Rinoa pressed the skin back together and after a few moments Squall passed out, boneless and breathing deep. Safe. Zell slid his arms around him (to keep him steady, he told himself lamely) and let his head drop to rest against the man’s shoulder. If he knew anything about Squall he would berate himself for this all week. It was a mess. But they made it. Death by martyrdom averted. Sorceress saved. Big damn heroes.

He was so exhausted he had forgotten about Rinoa until he lifted his tired head again and saw her watching them. The look on her face was unreadable. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”

“Thank  _you_ ,” she said back, carefully leveled. It was easy to forget how powerful she was; she looked so small sitting there drowning in Irvine’s coat. “I know things haven’t been... Y’know. But I appreciate the rescue.”

Sometimes he wondered if she forgot that she wasn’t just Squall’s ex-wife to them. She was their friend. And it must have been painful to think she lost them all in the separation. As easy as it had been for him to choose his side in all of it, he still cared about her. And maybe choosing sides at all had been unfair. “I’m really glad you’re safe,” he finally said. Trying to ignore the way her eyes lingered on the seatbelt of his arms around Squall’s waist, trying to ignore how goddamn weird this all was.

They didn’t say much for the rest of the drive. The familiar red mass of the Ragnarok just around the curve of the road was more than a welcome sight. Irvine parked and escorted Grant and Rinoa toward the ship. Selphie was waiting anxiously on the ramp and when she saw Rinoa she ran to throw her tiny arms around her. 

“Hey,” Zell said softly into the sudden privacy of the car, giving the sleeping form in his arms a little squeeze. “Come on Commander Sleepy, time to go.” It took everything in him not to lean forward and kiss the soft nape of his neck. Squall never looked this relaxed absolutely ever and having to wake him up felt like kicking something small and fuzzy. 

“Nnnnnnnm.” A little potion drunk, Squall shook his head. Paired with the magic and the exhaustion, it was a deadly cocktail of grogginess. “‘d’n’ wanna be important today.”

“You’re important every day,” Zell said matter-of-factly as he untangled himself from the warmth of their position, which was the same kind of misery as ripping off a bandage. “I’m serious dude, you have to wake up. We gotta get you home.”

When Squall got to his feet and out of the car, he gifted Zell with a smile that was so uncharacteristically sweet he would cherish it for the rest of his goddamn life. Then, Squall gave a lazy salute, mumbling, “...’s always home when you’re around,” and patted Zell’s cheek before making a slow shuffling path to the ship.

Zell took a moment to breathe. Letting that settle into his bones. Then, quietly, he followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. How do we feel about some smut in the next chapter? Asking for a friend. ;)
> 
> Writing Playlist: Giants - Bear Hands


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Getting a little explicit in this chapter, folks. Thanks for bearing with me on the delay. Enjoy. :)

The world could wait, Squall decided.

He woke slow and peaceful and he didn’t want to exist yet. Just to revel in the quiet. To trick his body into believing he was still asleep. Blankets had been bundled around him like a cocoon and where yesterday he was caked in blood and sweat, he now felt clean and comfortable. Didn’t have a clue how he ended up in the captain’s quarters of the ship though, or when he changed and took a shower, but the dull pull of fresh skin over what once was a gunshot wound told him enough. 

They had made it. That’s what was important. Success. There were other feelings buried inside it somewhere; pain and shame and desire and relief. But the rest of the memory was unsteady as a house of cards in the wind.

A problem for Future Squall. Right now, Present Squall was enjoying the not existing, thanks.

Whoever built this ship must have loved the sky. Or loved spacing out with a view. Either way, Squall appreciated it. It was easy to lose himself in the sight through the port side window. The sky was dark and rich with stars and snow-capped mountains stood as a beautiful backdrop to the soft glow of the halo of Balamb Garden. The school seemed gentle from a distance. Like a lighthouse calling him back from the sea. Home sweet home.

Part of him recognized he was in the rare morning moment before the anxiety set in. He gave it a few minutes. Listening for the sound of its arrival like the scraping clatter of sharp nails on a tiled floor. But it didn’t come. Not yet. The only thing he heard was a puff of breath behind him. 

Zell had his back turned and was snoring softly. Sleeping deep. For a while, Squall watched the rise and fall of his ribs, a soothing repetition that felt so familiar now. He’d watched Zell sleep a lot when they first got him back. Worrying and feeling guilty and biting his fingernails down until they bled. Like a sentry keeping a despairing vigil, determined not to let him slip away again, knowing full well that if anyone had tried to take him out from under Garden’s nose Squall would have ripped their throats out with his teeth. For weeks, no one could have dragged him from that bedside if they’d tried. And no one had been dumb enough to try. 

It felt different now though.

Had anyone seen them like this and wondered? There were plenty of other rooms on the ship. Definitely no reason to share a bed. Prickly Commander Squall would surely hate that.

(Only he didn’t. He’d missed it. The worst part of going to bed was waking up in the morning with arms stretched out for someone who wasn’t there.)

But they were alone now. Safe, almost. No one to see. Something in him was afraid to be exposed. He’d worn his broken heart so long he didn’t know who he’d be without it again, but maybe he could afford to put the weight of the fear down for just a minute. Maybe he could take what he wanted for a single second without the echo of doubt ringing around him like a chorus. 

The space between them was suddenly unbearable. 

Squall shifted. Moved closer. Hesitated. Then, he slid an arm around the dip of Zell’s waist. Gentle and easy. Trying not to fracture the moment. He could feel that calming breath against him now as his chest pressed to Zell’s back. They fit like the long lost pieces of some forgotten puzzle.

Carefully, he pressed a kiss as soft as a whisper to Zell’s shoulder. It felt like uncharted territory. Domestic and private and new. Like something he wasn’t allowed to have anymore. But when he thought that, he realized he believed it a little bit less than he did yesterday. Because Zell thought he deserved it. Zell cared. And Zell had a tendency to eclipse the sun. To take the worry away and fill the empty spaces with a smile, a touch, a kindness. 

Squall was growing attached to living in the shade. 

He didn’t want to dive into what that meant for who he was, so he continued to ignore the discussion his mind was dying to have about it (he was getting very good at that) because he didn’t want to get stuck running circles in his head when the world had offered him an olive branch like this. A chance at some small bit of peace. Even if it only lasted for a morning.  He handled this like glass and worried he would break it.

Like he did before.

“Y’know, I didn’t really take you for a cuddler,” Zell murmured, low and raspy. For as much as he hounded Squall to rest more, he wasn’t practicing what he preached too well. He found Squall’s hand and tangled their fingers together.

“I’m not,” Squall lied, pressing his cold nose into the crook of Zell’s neck. Rinoa had been all soft curves and delicate bones but Zell felt sturdy in his embrace. Hard muscle, firm chest. Warmth coming off him in waves like a tiny furnace. He always ran hot. And he smelled good, like vanilla with a touch of spice.

“Whatever you say, boss.”

Squall decided (in the locked away part of his mind where a tiny bit of hope was budding carefully away from the rest of his mess) that he would be okay with waking up like this more often. “Where is everyone?”

“Garden,” Zell yawned. “Told ‘em we’d debrief tomorrow so you could get some sleep.” 

That was good. Some tension disappeared. He wasn’t ready to deal with that yet. And definitely not ready to face Rinoa. Here, in the comfort of this bed, there was nothing but them and that was okay.

Whatever they were now. 

Squall had never been the kind of person to know how to  belong to someone. Even with Rinoa it hadn’t been easy. She’d burrowed her way under his skin by force, and he was sure getting close to him had felt like hacking away at a mountain of ice with a plastic spoon. But then, he knew he was being pursued. Even if he was confused about why and what to do with it. 

Now. This. He didn’t know. Was he being pursued? Was this a  _belonging_ situation? Or was it just comfortable? He’d tried so hard to keep everyone away after the divorce but Zell took him down from the inside. If Rinoa was a battering ram, Zell was a needle pumping him full of one hell of a drug. 

“You’re thinking real hard back there.”

_What happened to being present?_

“How do you know I’m thinking? Maybe I fell asleep.”

Laughter shook Zell’s frame and Hyne, it had been so long since he’d felt relaxed like this. So long since he’d been able to hold someone so close. Deep down, loneliness reared it’s ugly head and begged him not to fuck it up. The skin felt soft where Zell’s shirt rode up and Squall played beneath the fabric, smoothing a path across the low plane of his stomach and coaxing out a pleased sigh. 

“You? Sleep? Unrelatable.”

“Har har.” Squall bit down on Zell’s shoulder playfully. “Hilarious, coming from you.”

“Hey! We’re not talking about me. What’s on your mind?”

And wasn’t that a question. Because they  _were_ talking about him. What was on Squall’s mind? It was Zell, safe in his arms. It was Zell, running toward a ticking death to stand by his side. It was Zell, laughing and smiling and constantly and all the time.

And there was that pesky memory his mind kept wandering back to. _“Squall, why did you go on your own? Is Zell that important to you?”_ Selphie had said that day. There had been volleying gunfire and men with cruel faces hovering over Zell’s crumpled form on the dirty floor of the prison. He’d seen red and his throat had closed and he needed to  _go_ , needed to  _protect_...

All those years, how had he missed it? How had he not seen? It had been war and Rinoa and the end of the world, but Zell had been right there all along. A constant force of support. Of belief. Someone he always gravitated to, even before he knew why.

“I’m thinking about you.” It wasn’t worth wasting energy on resisting the urge to kiss a path to his neck, so Squall didn’t fight it. Couldn’t resist that temptation. 

_What did I do before you took up all the space in my mind?_

“Oh?” Zell shivered, tilting his head to expose more skin to the mercy of Squall’s teeth. “Is that a good thing?”

“Yeah.” His grip tightened. Fingers slid a little lower. Flirting with the waistband of Zell’s pants. Feeling bold or exhausted or completely out of his mind. “Yeah, I think it is.”

Breath stuttering, Zell twitched his hips back just enough to ignite desire in Squall’s gut like a late summer heat. Heavy and scorching and deep.

“Y-yeah, good, that’s-...that’s, ahhh.  _Good._  How do you feel?” He stammered as Squall pushed forward just enough to press his growing hardness more firmly against the curve of Zell’s ass. Rocking slow. Purposeful. Trying not to deconstruct the choked exhale that bled like smoke from his throat.

_How do I feel? Like the world is spinning backwards._

“I feel good.” It was a trick to get Zell’s shirt off without letting go of him but Squall managed. Because he needed more skin. Needed to feel everything. And god, what a reward the effort gave him. Zell was panting now, toes curling as Squall’s tongue made a friend of the long scar cutting across the blade of his shoulder.

“ _Squall,_ ” Zell whined. Anxious, breathless. “Just take it. Whatever you want, just take it,  _please_.”

Generally, Squall took pride in his willpower. But right now? He was _weak_.

It was too easy to shift, too easy to pin Zell to the mattress beneath him. And then there was no daylight between them. Squall thrust down again, chasing that delicious friction, and the ruined sound Zell made dragged itself so far down into Squall’s mind that he knew he would never forget it. 

This wasn’t the heat of battle. It wasn’t a drunken decision and it wasn’t in a pained delirium. There was nothing to hide behind, no excuse to blame his feelings on. Just a fully sober and rational moment. And he  _wanted_. His mind went feral with hunger and possibility. Wondering what wonderful sounds Zell would make beneath him just like this, bare and electric and  _god his beautiful back._

Laughter edged with a bit of hysteria erupted out of Zell like spring flowers in furious bloom. “God, you’re -  of _course_ you are, you fuckin’ perfect -... Hyne \- I  _knew_ it.”

Squall leaned back and frowned. “...Are you having a stroke right now?”

“No!” Zell wrestled free of Squall’s weight and flipped himself over. The brightness of his eyes glittered and his face was red. “No, like. You’re. And I, like... I mean I’m usually, when I do this... Just - fucking  _never mind_ _,_ I’ll explain it later, if you don’t kiss me I’m going to explode.”

No need to be told twice. Squall pounced on the opportunity. He wasted no time slotting them together again and swimming in the feeling of the movement of their lips. But now that Zell was free, he was determined to be a glorious terror. He grabbed a handful of Squall’s ass and squeezed, hips pushing upward in the same motion, and the firm promise of Zell’s cock against him was a torment. Too many clothes, too much restriction.

“I want... I...  _Zell_ ,” Squall moaned, dizzy with need.

“I know.” Triumphantly, Zell found a sensitive spot just below Squall’s jawline and sucked a heady bruise there. “I _know_.”

Squall’s hands shook. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know how to -...”

“It’s okay. I do,” Zell said against his neck, hot breath splashing down toward his collar bone. “If that’s what you want.”

Firm hands came to rest against the bones of Squall’s hips, forcing him still.  _Make a choice,_  they said. 

Swallowing hard, Squall gave in. 

“Yes.”

Zell’s eyes darkened. 

He leveraged himself to roll them, leaving Squall flat on his back. And in that moment, the air was gone and Squall was drowning.  “We’re gonna take everything slow and easy, okay? I’m not gonna do anything you’re not ready for. And if you want to stop at any point for any reason, just say the word and I will. No questions asked.”

_God, I could love you._

Torn between being self-conscious and being so turned on he could barely form a sentence, Squall nodded and tried to remember how to breathe. Slowly,  _slowly,_  Zell slipped his fingers under the waistband of Squall’s pants and slid them down his legs. Until he was naked in the pallor of the moonlight. 

“Hyne,” Zell said, voice wrecked with wonder. His eyes raked over the bare flesh beneath him. “For fuck’s sake. You’re made of marble, you’re just... You’re everything, aren’t you?” 

Squall tried not to squirm under the scrutiny but he could feel himself go red under the praise. No one had talked about him like that before. Not with  _words_ like that. Like he was some kind of beautiful prize. 

Starting at his neck, Zell made an adoring journey down his chest, over his ribs, across his thighs. Exploring first with his fingers and then with his lips and then with his tongue. Mapping out every inch meticulously, and marking all the places that made Squall gasp and shiver in whatever atlas he was creating in his mind. As if, above all else, this was something he wanted to remember forever.

Then, a strong grip pushed his thighs apart and Zell settled between them with the confidence of someone who belonged there.

And when he felt the warmth of Zell’s mouth close around him, Squall short-circuited.

“ _Ffffffffuck._ ”  His back arched off the bed. And it was a conscious and very focused effort not to lift his hips up and push in further. But Zell seemed to read his mind, sinking down deeper and swallowing as it hit the back of his throat.  It felt better than he ever thought it would. And it was abundantly clear to Squall that he wasn’t long for this world. This man would surely kill him. 

“Hyne, I -  _please_ , fucking  _hell._ ”

“Commander,” Zell teased when he came back up for air. The head of Squall’s cock dragged sinfully against his glistening bottom lip and that particular image would star in any fantasy Squall ever had again. “Have you never...?”

“Rinoa didn’t like doing it,” he gasped. Somewhere inside him was a forest fire filling his lungs with thick black smoke. And all he wanted was to burn.

“Never? God, what a waste.” Zell said mournfully. His tongue went down again and Squall felt the life leaving his body. That perfect pressure was back, and if his eyes weren’t squeezed shut he was sure there would be a smug look on Zell’s face. Which would be deserving, because  holy _fuck._  He took him slowly, base to tip and back again. Hollowing his cheeks. Tongue gliding and circling and torturing. “Please,” was all he could find the words to say. “Please,” and “ _yes_ _,_ ” and “please.”

It felt like a dam breaking. Like part of himself was bursting out through a wall he didn’t know existed. His hands found Zell’s hair and pulled and Zell _groaned_ and the fire just burned hotter, bigger, brighter. Until he was gasping for air that wouldn’t fit inside him and he went tumbling down into a dark abyss that felt like freedom. And that was the fucking end, white flag, battle over. His stomach twisted and his orgasm hit him like a train. And Zell took it all down his throat with a desperately pleased moan. Swallowing and massaging his thighs and pulling out every last bit of pleasure he could find. 

And he still had his pants on. What kind of dark fucking magic.

It took a moment to come back to the world and when he did Zell was watching him. Eyes so clouded with desire he almost didn’t look like himself.

“Pants _off,_ ” Squall growled.

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was some close relative of Squall’s Command voice laced with lust and Zell complied immediately. Naked and panting, nothing left to hide. All glistening skin and muscular planes like carved stone. Some reincarnation of an ancient Centrarian gladiator. Squall sat up to take it all in and found some wild pleasure in knowing he was the reason that Zell was out of his mind with arousal.

“Come here,” he croaked, filled with an overwhelming primal need to know what it looked like when Zell lost control. The bed dipped as Zell crawled forward to meet Squall in the middle, quiet and dazed like the victim of a trance. Wracked with nerves and need and desperate aching truth. 

“Are you sure?”

Squall nodded. “Tell me what you like.”

“I like  _you,_ ” Zell confessed. “Squall, I like you so much. Please just  _touch me._ ”

It couldn’t be that different than touching himself, right? So Squall spit on his palm and wrapped it slick around Zell’s cock. Feeling the weight of it against his fingertips. A soft and strangled cry got stuck between them and Squall caught Zell’s chin with his free hand and kissed him hard. Soaking it in as Zell shook against him, clinging to Squall’s shoulders like he’d dissolve into dust if he let go. 

And that was enough. Pumping and twisting his wrist and listening to the aborted sounds Zell’s mouth kept trying to make as his head fell into the curve of Squall’s neck, strange and sweet. It didn’t take long before Zell bit down hard and groaned and came into his hand. Warm and sticky and intoxicating. 

Then, the quiet came back. Blowing in like a stray breeze after some great storm. Squall held them there for a moment, pressing gentle kisses to Zell’s temple. Languishing in the feeling that something inside him was finally at ease.

“ _Hell,_ ”  Zell sighed.

“Hell,” Squall agreed

He fell back onto the mattress. Feeling a little different. Zell dragged himself out of bed to clean up and tossed Squall a towel to wipe the come off his fingers. Which was  _surreal._  After that, he pulled the covers up around himself a little self-consciously and Zell stood in the doorway, watching him. 

“Was that - “

“If you ask me if that was okay, I’m going to hit you.” 

A tiny smile quirked Zell’s lips and he nodded, letting himself relax. And then he got back into bed, curled up against Squall’s side, and promptly fell asleep. Just like that. 

The sky was only just beginning to lighten. They had a few hours until the world existed again. 

A thought drifted in like a petal on a stream. That this would change things between them forever. 

Squall was okay with that. At least for right now.

He fell asleep with the ocean on his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that feel when you’re trying to explain to your bro that you’re generally a bottom and you’re excited that he has top tendencies but your brain shuts down because he’s very hot and intense and also kind of clueless so you just give up and make out? No, just Zell? Cool.
> 
> Been a while since I’ve written smut, eeek. Also it is my personal headcanon that Zell is like the most considerate and loving person on earth in relationships. Thanks for your kind comments and continued support. Let’s see what happens next, yeah? :)
> 
> Writing Playlist: Scorched Earth - Barton Carroll


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Thanks for your continued support. Very excited for our next few chapters and I hope you are too. :)

_Nothing is promised_ _,_ Ma had said once.  _Every time you blink, you miss something new, so keep your eyes open._

When he was a kid, he took that literally. She would laugh as he sat on the docks staring wide-eyed at the ocean. Waiting for something to happen. Later, he learned what she had really meant; you can’t take the chances you don’t see.  

So he woke up early every day as a cadet. Didn’t want to miss a moment. Pushing himself to be stronger and faster and better and knowing he was given the gift of a chance with this place, a way to tame that endless jittering inside of him and do something that mattered. Like his grandfather did. The grades, the missions, all of it brought him a step closer to being someone he was proud of. 

So mornings were like a religious experience; an opportunity for him to prepare for a day that may or may not be filled with chances. To get his head on straight and focus. (He hadn’t been great at the focus part when he was younger but growing up and saving the world gave a person some perspective.) His mind still wandered, but there was discipline, and in the crispness of the early air he could find himself.

Or, at least the pieces of himself that still existed to find.

After weeks of careful training, Zell finally felt like his strength was almost back. His body was a bike with a loose wheel, manageable but not quite right, and gradually he was turning the wrench to tighten the bolts and smooth out the ride. Running helped; the repetitive press of cold air in his lungs; the burn of his calves; the impact of his feet on the ground. It felt  good to turn off his mind for a while and settle into the familiar home of his muscles. Because it was tangible. He could look in the mirror and see the physical progress he was making. He could control it.

Mental progress, on the other hand. That was a whole different story.

It felt like shooting a gun off in the dark. He didn’t know where the target was, or how many bullets he had. And even if he pulled the trigger, he wouldn’t know if he hit anything until someone turned the lights back on. And who knew when that would be? And why were they making him use a gun when he was better with his fists anyway? 

Maybe that was a bad analogy. The moral of that story was that he had no idea if he was getting better. He felt okay sometimes. And last night he hadn’t had any weird dreams, and that felt like progress. Which he would fully attribute to being around Squall and the fiercely protective aura he seemed to radiate any time they were together.

He looked beautiful when he slept, by the way, in case anyone was wondering.

Zell absolutely did not expect the morning to turn out the way it had, and it was such a pleasant surprise he was almost sure he dreamed it. And the fact that Squall had initiated it was a gust of wind in Zell’s sails. Because maybe there was a tiny sliver of a chance that Squall actually wanted _him_ and  wasn’t just on some confusing rebound that Zell happened to be in the path of. Leaving that bed had been hard. But he figured a little bit of space wouldn’t be a bad thing, in case Squall woke up and regretted all of it. Which was a possibility he was trying not to freak out about. Besides, Squall needed sleep and all Zell wanted to do was pull him close and lay kisses all over him. Which was not conducive to sleeping in any way, shape, or form.

_And also you like him way too much and you’re setting yourself up for disaster but we weren’t gonna discuss that today, huh?_

Zell picked up his pace. 

Spring was starting to show its teeth. It always came early in Balamb. The cloudiness had broken a while ago but now buds were thick on their stems, ready to make their grand entrance into the coming season. He suspected by tomorrow there would be color all over the quad. Irvine would be thrilled; one of the man’s favorite pastimes was lazing in the grass while Selphie braided flowers in his hair and buzzed on about some exciting idea she was just struck with. Beyond that forced cool exterior, Irvine was such a  softie.

Zell realized in that moment that his birthday was coming up too. Another year older. Not much wiser, but hey. Can’t win them all. Birthdays made him weirdly emotional and he never had a good explanation for that. It was just that so much had happened and sometimes it seemed insane that they’d come out on the other side alive.For SeeD, every year was an achievement. 

There had been a while in that cave where he wasn’t sure he’d see another birthday. That hurt a lot to think about.

Much later than he expected, he finished his run and slowed to a stop at the front gate of Garden, sweating through his shirt and head swimming with a runner’s high. The bells were chiming; a sound he always missed when he was away on a contract. He used the walk inside as a cool down and went straight for the cafeteria, stomach complaining loudly. They’d be closing down the breakfast line soon if his internal food clock was right. And it was _always_ right.

“There you are!” the head chef called, waving a chubby hand at him. “I was getting worried about you! You weren’t at dinner yesterday and you almost missed breakfast, that’s not like you!”

He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “Didn’t mean to make you worry, Dottie, I’m sorry. Wow, you look great today, are those new glasses?”

“Don’t flatter me just so I feed you!!” Dottie was the oldest of Garden’s kitchen staff and had been there for years, watching them all grow up and keeping them fed through the highs and the lows of the war. She was short and round and always wore her hair in a long grey braid that coiled neatly around itself like a snake under her hair net. The two were perfect for each other; a chef who lamented never having children and a homesick kid with an endless appetite. “I’ve still got some bacon and eggs in the trough and  _just for you_ I’ll  throw a couple more pancakes on.”

A woman after his own heart.  He clutched his chest. “Aw man, what would I do without you?” 

“If you want to help out, I need some chocolate melted for a torte I’m making for the Garden Festival Committee meeting tonight. Everything’s by the stove.”

Zell grinned, washing his hands. Selphie had been begging Dottie to join the committee for weeks, and the reasoning was less for the food and more for the fact that she adored the old woman and wanted to bring her wonderful energy to her team. Zell suspected there was an ulterior match-making motive there as well, as she had also convinced one of Garden’s most senior mechanics to join the committee. The one that a little birdie that was  _definitely not Zell at_ _all_ had told her that Dottie had a crush on. “She finally got you, huh? You’re getting soft in your old age.”

She swatted at him with her spatula. “Old age! Don’t make me burn these!!”

Ingredients scattered one of the counters near a back stove. He saw bars of dark chocolate in silver wrapping, some golden syrup, cinnamon, cream, and cocoa powder. The works. Cooking was a hobby he’d grown attached to as he got older. It felt like a heirloom passed down from his mother with love. Every time he worked in the kitchen he felt her peering over his shoulder and clicking her tongue, offering advice and scolding him for using too much sugar. Even when she wasn’t around, she was still taking care of him. 

He grabbed a big bowl and started with the chocolate bars, breaking them into smaller pieces and tossing them in. Then, a few tablespoons of the syrup were added to the mix. After that, he uncapped the carton of cream and poured about a quarter of it in. The whole bowl went to stand over a pan of hot water on the stove, and he made sure to turn the heat down so the chocolate wouldn’t burn while it melted. That would need to sit for about fifteen minutes. What she would do after that was some magnificent form of sorcery probably. He still couldn’t figure out why her food always tasted better than his. He’d followed her recipes to a T and it was never quite right. The only explanation was either blood sacrifice or a magic touch. 

“Did I tell you?” Dottie said as she prepped a cake tin. He leaned against the counter and shoveled food into his mouth while she talked. If there was anything he loved more than kitchen gossip, he hadn’t found it yet. “I have a new theory.”

“Oh?” She was very invested in her conspiracies. Most of the time they were completely silly but every once in a while she’d hit it right on the nose. The stuff she had said about NORG? Absolutely wild. “Who’s plotting to take down Garden today?”

 There was a twinkle in her eye. “The Commander popped by a little bit ago.”

Zell paused. Chewed thoughtfully. Swallowed. Stuffed a massive piece of pancake in his mouth. This was gonna be good. “Oh really?”

“Yes!” Practically buzzing, she poured cream into the bowl with coffee grounds and cinnamon. Metal scraped against the side of the bowl as she whisked vigorously. “Didn’t eat. He looked like he was thinking very hard about something. Even more than usual. Very prone to scowling, that man. Such a sweet face when he isn’t though!”

  _Sigh._ _True._

“Okay, so he came to breakfast. Big deal. What’s the theory?” He tried not to sound too interested. Totally casual. Very calm. 

“Welllllllll...........” She drew out the word like some kind of vocal drumroll. Always a fan of the drama. “I think he and Sorceress Rinoa are getting back together!”

Zell choked.

_“What.”_

“I don’t know! I just get a feeling something’s going on! He seemed like he was in a big hurry. Probably had to get back to something. Or  _someone._  And.” She leaned forward, voice hushed to a whisper. _“_ _He had a mark on his neck.”  _

Zell nearly dropped his plate. 

How had he not noticed that he’d given the great and powerful Commander of Balamb Garden  a fucking _hickey_? Oh, Squall was going to kill him.

“But didn’t she get in last night? Why would they come in separately if they were back together?” 

 It’s not like he could tell her the real story. Might as well let her have some fun. A  hickey though. Sweet baby Hyne. This was both the proudest and most mortifying day of Zell’s short life.

 “To avoid rousing suspicion,  _obviously._  You’re so bad at picking up the signs!! After how public the separation was they’re probably trying to avoid too much attention until they sort everything out. That’s what I would do.” The cooled chocolate was poured into the bowl with the cream mixture. “How romantic it must have been! An attack on her life! And he comes swooping in with his hair blowing in the wind like a knight - he does have beautiful hair doesn’t he? - to cut down her enemies. And then he takes her in his arms and their eyes meet - like slow motion!! - and he kisses her passionately. And they realize they  love each other and spend the night under the stars. Can you even imagine?” Dreamily, she stared off into the distance as she stirred. Which was a small miracle because Zell had absolutely no idea what kind of face journey he was on right now. Didn’t have time to unpack how close to home  that was. Nope. Not today. 

“Sounds... yeah! That would be... Ha?? Hmm. Right? Crazy!” He put his plate in the sink and laughed nervously. “Well look at the time! I’ve got. Theeeeee. You know, right now in the... library? Of course. Real important, can’t be late, thanks!”

_Every time you blink.  _

After a scalding shower, he flopped down on his bed and the familiarity was a comfort. The one place he still felt entirely safe. On top of a small shelf of his favorite books sat a tiny metal fish Selphie had bought for him in Dollet once after a drunk night out after the war. She had been the only one he told about Seifer. They were all at the orphanage together sure, but she didn’t grow up with him. It felt safe telling her things and knowing she could be objective about it. He had poured his heart out to her about how goddamn lonely he’d been and the next morning she had stuffed the fish in his hand with a smile. _“You’re the catch of the day,”_   she had said, sucking in her cheeks and giggling.  _”And there are plenty of other fish in the sea!”  _

It was so stupid but she was so proud of it and now it made him homesick. 

For a long moment, he contemplated how much trouble he was in.

Then, he went searching for Selphie. 

He found her in the library, scribbling away in a beat-up sketchbook at one of the long desks in the back. An assortment of stubby colored pencils threatened to roll onto the ground as she worked. A few chairs down, Irvine dozed with his hat tipped down over his face. 

“Yo, you super busy?” 

Selphie took one look at him and put her pencils down. Which didn’t inspire confidence in how torn up he must have looked. “What’s wrong?” 

He took the fish out of his pocket. 

“Oh,” she said softly. She patted the chair next to her and Zell sat, legs bouncing nervously. Because how do you get advice without spilling a secret? It wasn’t just his thing to talk about, and he knew how much Squall valued his privacy. As much as he wanted to scream from the rooftops how he felt (incredible, giddy, over the moon) it was kind of delicate. If he wanted to pursue this (and he absolutely did, holy hell) he needed to handle it right.

“I need advice and I need you to not ask me any questions about it, okay?” 

Selphie raised a brow. “I’ll try my best...?”

“Cool.” 

And then he was at a loss. Where do you start with something like this? The fish was a welcome weight in his hands. Something grounding. This was so much different than last time, wasn’t it? All of that had just tumbled out of his mouth like a gatling gun. Because it didn’t matter anymore by the time he finally opened up about Seifer. Or, well, it  did,  but it wasn’t like he could fix any of it and keeping something like  _“hey, my ex is committing high crimes and treason and we thought he died but he didn’t and I feel a little funky about that??”_ buried without telling someone was suffocating.

This mattered so much though. 

Selphie watched him fidget for a few long minutes before taking pity on him. “So. The mission got a little hairy,” she commented. Giving him an opening to start talking. When he didn’t, she nudged his foot. “Did you sleep okay?”

He nodded. “Best sleep I’ve had in ages.” Squall was clingy when he slept which was completely unexpected from someone who took himself so seriously. 

God, Zell loved being little spoon. 

Selphie’s toes bumped into his ankle. “Rinoa seemed kind of weird when we walked back to Garden. I think something was bothering her but she didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh yeah? Huh.” She had watched them so close in the car. Did she know? God, what would that conversation be like?  _“Hey, guess we have exactly the same type, huh? Pretty crazy!”_

Selphie kicked him hard. “Zell! Tell me what’s wrong!”

“Ouch, okay!” He huffed out a breath. Just rip the bandage off. “So like. Something happened. Or has been happening, sort of? And it’s... really good? Like  _really_ good. But. I don’t know what to do now? I guess? Because I can’t stop thinking about it and I don’t want to mess it up but how do you not mess something up if you don’t even know what it is? Like. Am I wanting something impossible? Am I pushing too much or not enough or...? You know?”

Selphie hummed sagely and thought for a moment. As if any of that word vomit made sense. 

“Okay. So. I’m just going to make some statements and if you want to talk about it we can, and if you don’t or if they’re wrong then you can just say so. Does that sound okay?”

Zell shrugged, avoiding her eyes.

 “I get the impression that ‘something’ is a ‘someone.’” When he said nothing, she continued. “And you’re...on the fence about pursuing it.”

“No! No, I... I really want it.”

“Okay. Not on the fence then but... scared. So something is unsteady about it. You said you’re worried you want something impossible. So maybe this person has expressed some disinterest in being with you.”

He thought of the way Squall felt in his mouth, the strangled sound he made when he shuddered and tensed and - 

“There’s definitely some interest in _me_ , at least.” 

“ But maybe not in relationships.” She nodded. Tapped her cheeks with her fingers as she thought. Then, she sat back in her chair and looked as satisfied as someone who just won a particularly difficult chess match. “Right! You have a crush on Squall again.”

His face felt red hot. ”How do you _always_ do that.”

“You’re predictable. This sounds different than before though.” She leaned in with a bullseye gaze, determined to stare the information out of him. “This sounds like something  _big_ happened.”

The last time he sprung feelings for their dear Commander was short lived (or so he kept unconvincingly insisting to himself) and they were in the middle of the war and he blamed it on adrenaline and the whole mess with Seifer and then the orphanage thing was pretty crazy, and Rinoa was in the picture anyway and Squall didn’t swing that way clearly and it wasn’t a real crush probably and - 

_“Hey! There’s my dapper guy!” Selphie poked her head out the door. She skipped over to wrap her skinny arms around Zell’s shoulders from behind. “You disappeared and I wanted to dance with you!”  _

_“Sorry Selph,” Zell downed the rest of the champagne in his glass and patted her arm. “Needed some air.”_

_“You feeling okay, turtledove?” She plopped down on the step next to him. The music from inside bled from the crack in the door, something waltzy and elegant. The whole night had been stupidly beautiful. From the soft bouquets of ivory moonflowers spilling out of porcelain vases to the golden buttons down the back of Rinoa’s wedding gown, every tiny detail was planned and perfect. Which was exactly what Squall deserved._  

_It had been an honor to stand next to him as his best man at the altar, as hands were bound and vows were spoken. Even if all of it sent his stomach twisting a little bit._

_“Yeah, just... you know.” He shrugged uselessly._

_“I know.” Selphie laid her head on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Z. We’ll find you your person.”_

_“You’re gonna have to pick one for me because I clearly can’t make good decisions.” Seifer was unstable and Squall was unattainable and Zell could apparently only pay attention to men who had a hand in determining the future of the known universe. What a mess.  _

_“Don’t beat yourself up. I think everyone is at least a little bit in love with him.”  _

_“No, I’m - !” He stuttered, face going red. “It’s not like that, I just... it’s... Aghhhhhhhh, don’t pick on me.”  _

_“I’m not!” She wiggled and pressed a kiss to his cheek kindly. “I’m just saying, he’s handsome and smart and sensitive and no one can blame you for having good taste to a fault. Now, I know you feel weird, but will you please come dance with me? We miss you.”_

_“I - “_

_A door down the way swung open and smacked against the side of the house loudly. Out darted Squall, making a beeline for the garden. Zell couldn’t hear it, but he was sure the groom was on the verge of some kind of panic attack. They’d gotten worse since the end of the war. Squall didn’t like talking about it but Zell could always tell._

_ “Want me to talk to him?” Selphie said gently._

_“No,” Zell sighed. “I think I need to.”  _

_She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly and skipped back inside, taking Zell’s calm with her. Squall’s distressed form disappeared into a tall cluster of bushes and Zell took off after him._

_“Hey!” It was a bit of a maze but he came out into a small clearing where clean-cut hedges surrounded a pond with large white fish wriggling just below the surface. Flowers bloomed beneath the silvery grace of the moon and Squall was sitting down on a stone bench near the water. The anxiety was palpable. “You’re missing your own party.”  _

_“Sorry. Just needed a minute.”_

_“Don’t be sorry. You okay?” Zell sat down next to him and watched as he wrung his silk tie in his hands. Squall was probably the best looking groom Zell had ever seen. His hair was swept back artfully from his face and the uniform jacket rode the sturdy line of his shoulders with an elegance reserved for a king. It wasn’t exactly mandatory for SeeD to be married in their uniforms, but Zell suspected it was Squall’s way of making a statement to Rinoa’s father; ‘I may be marrying your daughter, but I am still the Commander of Balamb Garden and that won’t be forgotten’. His jaw had been tight with tension since they stepped out of the car and had to deal with the press pool waiting on Caraway’s lawn._

_“Kind of freaking out, I guess.”_

_“Totally fair,” Zell bumped their shoulders together. “Pretty big day or something.”  _

_“Yeah.” Squall fixed him with a searching look. Zell’s stomach twisted again. “This is weird right? Like, fast? Weird and fast?”_

_“What is?”_

_“I don’t know, I just...” Squall stood abruptly and started to pace, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides. Should have gotten him a stress ball for a wedding present. “I’m a 19 year old war veteran. I’m marrying a sorceress, and the presidents of both Esthar and Galbadia are at my wedding. I feel like my life is happening really fast and I can’t catch up.”  _

_“It does seem kinda crazy sometimes.”_

_“Right, exactly, so maybe I should just - “_

_“Do you love her?” Zell asked._

_Squall stopped. Took a breath. His gaze got caught on the water and his eyes looked so pale tonight._

_“Yes.”_

_“Then that’s what matters. Everything else is just noise. You know?”_

_Stress pulled his mouth into a frown. It looked somehow deeper without his hair covering half his face._

_“It’s a lot of noise. I don’t know how to tune it all out.”  _

_“Good thing you’ve still got us then,” Zell said. He offered Squall his hand. When he took it, Zell could feel the cold press of the obsidian wedding band against his palm. Somewhere inside, his heart cracked open. “If it gets too loud, we’ll be there. No matter what. Okay?”  _

_Some of the tension in his shoulders eased. Just a little. But it was enough. “Okay.”_

_Zell let go._

_“Ready to head back?”  _

_“Yeah,” Squall said softly. “Thanks.”_

_“Any time. And hey, if you need me to bail you out of talking to the in-laws just give me a signal.”_

_“....What kind of signal?”_

_“I don’t know. Caw like a bird or something!” Zell flapped his arms stupidly.  _

_It made Squall smile.  _

“So much makes sense now!” Selphie had an absolutely thrilled look in her eyes and he already regretted this. There was Plotting going on in that head of hers and he didn’t like it one bit. “And he’s just being Squall about it, right? Like that’s the whole issue?”

“I don’t know,” Zell groaned, laying his head mournfully on the table. “I don’t know anything about anything.” 

Selphie petted his hair soothingly. “Listen. I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to talk to that man right now. Grab him by the shirt and shake it out of him! I know he’s gonna be anxious about it because that’s what he does but you have a right to know what’s going on. Relationships are a two-way street.” She made him sit up as she rubbed his shoulders reassuringly. “And I would bet my salary he is having this exact same crisis. And maybe worse because now it’s like an identity crisis? Like at least you  _knew_ but he’s probably learning something about himself that he wasn’t expecting. And that can be really scary.”

Zell hadn’t thought about it like that.  

“I think you’re good for him. You know how to speak each other’s language.” She stood up and pulled him into a hug and how did he live without this woman? “And one last thing.” She pressed the fish back into his hands with the sweetest most Selphie smile he could ever be blessed with. “You’re a catch, Z. Smart and tough and cheekbones to die for! Don’t you ever forget that!”

There were good people in his life.

Determined, he decided to head toward Squall’s office. He had no idea what he was going to say but he needed this. Needed to stop feeling like he had done something wrong. 

“There you are!” Quistis said exasperatedly as she rounded the corner. She marched toward him with a very stern look in her eye and that was enough to strike fear in the hearts of any student standing in her way. “I have been paging you _forever_.Why does this feel like I’m wrangling cats? Meeting room,  _now_.” She snatched his wrist and nearly dragged him down the hall. 

Buddy, this would not be a fun meeting.

She let him go once they reached the elevator. “Is this about the debrief?”

“Yes,” she said, voice cracking like a whip. “The one that apparently no one wants to participate in. Which, may I remind you that we don’t just do these for fun and we need them for record keeping and contract settlement.” 

Zell sighed. No getting out of this one unscathed. “I’m sorry.”

 The hardness of her gaze softened. “Thank you. That makes one of you.”

The doors slid open and the others were already seated. There was an uncomfortable tension in the air that he could taste in his mouth like sucking on a coin. Quistis took a seat at the head of the room. Normally that was Squall’s chair but since he had been the one on assignment, protocol dictated that someone else should archive the verbal details and ask questions of any relevant witnesses (in this case, Rinoa and Grant). Quistis, being his right hand woman in Garden affairs, was always the natural choice. It was all a big show of a process to ensure they were doing their jobs right and not abusing their power. Written reports would also be submitted by all participating SeeD within the week.

Squall turned in his chair. There was a bandage on his neck and the fur collar of his jacket was pulled up a little higher than usual. The look on his face was both poison and relief. 

Zell was suddenly terrified.

“Shall we begin?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *holding up my OCs Grant and Dottie like Simba from the Lion King* I just think they’re neat!
> 
> Anyone feeling some nuclear fallout coming on? My working title for the next chapter is The Balamb Garden Bicker Bowl. See you there. :)
> 
> Writing Playlist: Never Had - Oscar Isaac


	17. Chapter 17

If someone were to make a list of the most uncomfortable situations to be in, Squall imagined this would be the entire list. Number 3: Waiting in a quiet room with your ex-wife. Number 2: Waiting in a quiet room with your ex-wife and her attractive new boyfriend. And topping the list at Number 1: Waiting in a quiet room with your ex-wife and her attractive new boyfriend for the arrival of the man who gave you the best orgasm of your life a few hours ago.

He and Rinoa had said absolutely nothing to each other since Quistis left the room and he had taken to being cold and picking at the skin around his fingernails in retaliation. Because this fucking sucked. Complicated frustrations and old arguments ran themselves into the sides of his skull like they were trying to break the door down. But no, there would be none of that. There would be no fighting about anything because he was a professional and he did not have the energy right now. He could not deal with panicking about both Zell and Rinoa at the same time. 

Speaking of the devil, when Zell finally arrived (being dragged in by Quistis) he sat down next to Squall and didn’t say a word. Not a smile, not a bump of the shoulder. Just a stone wall of nervous professionalism. 

And if that didn’t scare the life out of him. 

Today had felt off in all kinds of ways and he couldn’t look at himself in the mirror and he felt like he’d done something wrong and this  fucking mark on his neck wouldn’t let him forget. It was still a little pink around the edges of the bandage but at least he could hide most of it with his hair. He hadn’t noticed it until Quistis came knocking down his door for the debrief and it had been all he could do to swipe a bandage from a cabinet and slap it on in the bathroom before she hauled him away. 

Absolutely did not want to dive into _that_ right  now with anyone in this room, thanks. 

It wasn’t that he wanted to hide from it. Not completely. And he’d never want Zell to think he didn’t care about what had happened. Or worse, that he was ashamed. Because overwhelmingly, aside from the startling newness of it, he hadn’t felt that good in years. It was tender and wonderful and undeserving, but the thought of explaining that to someone else made him insanely uncomfortable. He didn’t know what they were and it was scary and stressful and he hadn’t wrapped his own head around it yet. So how in the world could he tell his coworkers why he had a fucking hickey like a teenager?

_Why yes, my marriage did fall apart almost a year ago and yes, the divorce papers are still sitting unsigned in my desk because I can’t look at them without feeling like I’m suffocating._

_Why no, I had no idea I’d like being with a man, this is as much of a surprise to you as it is to me, thanks! Please never ask me about this again!_

Grant knew, Squall reminded himself with a chill as the man gave his account of the initial attack. He had seen. What did he make of it? Had he told Rinoa? Hyne, what a conversation  that  would be. And now she was here and unavoidable and would probably stay for a while because Garden was the safest place for her until they unraveled the threat and he couldn’t let that get in the way of his duties or else Quistis would be right and he hated when she was right. 

They’d need to sit down and talk eventually. But not today. Today was already a disaster. No use piling that onto the afternoon he already had to spend sitting between two people who had seen him naked.

“Squall?” 

His head shot up. Quistis had been talking to him. 

_Get your head on straight, Commander._

“Could you repeat that?” 

“Your assessment of the bombs.”

Bless, something he knew the answer to. “Not sophisticated by any means. Weapons aren’t their strong suit. The tech at their previous site was much more intricate but I would guess those were purchased and I imagine our raid on their compound did some damage to their funds. The ritualism surrounding them is what concerns me the most. I believe they think they’re serving some higher purpose. Returning humanity to itself and breaking the chains of magic, so to speak.”

“And how was disarmament handled?”

Rinoa cleared her throat. “If I can say something?”

Beside him, Zell tensed. 

_Here we fucking go._

“Go ahead,” Quistis allowed.

“In my admittedly non-professional opinion, the judgement call was reckless and irrational. I just wanted that stated for the record.” Rinoa’s chin had that stubborn set it got when she wasn’t going to let something go. When they were together, that look would always set his teeth on edge. 

Quistis blinked and looked between the two of them. “Oh?”

“He took it upon himself to disarm the bombs alone and I think it was a poor choice.“

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. Making a point.  _This is what you get,_ it said.  _This is what you deserve._

That was it. Squall snapped. 

“Poor choice? What other choice did I have? My mission was to  _protect your life_ \- “

“You could have let us help!”

“Now let’s all take a breath here,” Grant tried. It was ignored. 

“ - putting your job above everything else  as usual  \- “

“ - and asking me to risk the lives of my entire team - “

“ - safer! But you always have to be the only one to - “

“ - fucking _always_ with my job, like I’m  personally offending you  by focusing on my career which is  _keeping people alive_ \- “

Rinoa stood, throwing her hands up. “And of course you never pay attention to what I’m  _actually_  saying - !”

“ - some kind of train wreck running off the rails - “

“Enough!”  Quistis shot them a hard look. Squall bit his tongue. Rinoa looked ready to say more but Grant put a hand on her shoulder and that made Squall’s ears burn. “Zell. You’ve been quiet.”

There was a tick in the muscle of Zell’s jaw and his eyes glazed over for a moment. Thinking about something very hard. Then, he swallowed hard. “I agree. It was a bad call.”

_“What?_ _”_ Squall and Rinoa said in unison. Never in a million fucking years.

“But,” Zell continued hastily. Squall’s nails were digging into his palms so hard they almost bled. It felt like a betrayal. But would he have wanted Zell to be dishonest? “It came from good intentions. He made a judgement call to guarantee as many saved lives as possible, even if it meant risking his own. Our mission was to get Rinoa and company out and we succeeded. And we’re lucky the Commander is as brilliant as he is. He defused three bombs in remarkable time and could have easily taken out the fourth if not for the unexpected injury. Which I deserve the blame for. We should have swept the area more thoroughly before removing the Sorceress from a safe location. Time just got away from us.” Zell finally looked at him and there were nerves in his eyes and he didn’t  _want_  that. He didn’t want Zell worrying he had to sacrifice one part of his life for the other.  _I’m not worth it_ , he wanted to scream. “I have complete and total faith in the Commander and believe we could not have succeeded without Squall’s leadership. Even if I stand by my decision to abandon my orders and go back to assist.”

Quistis tapped her pen, troubled. Her displeasure was plain on her face. “I look forward to diving into your written reports. Anything else to add?” 

Squall stared down at the table, wanting this to be over. A storm of feelings slammed around his insides, making him nauseous.

“Alright then. Dismissed.”

The chair scraped harshly as he stood fast and left without looking back. He could feel their eyes boring into him but he had absolutely  nothing  to say to Rinoa right now. It was one thing to second guess him in the middle of a crisis in front of the team he was trying to keep together. That was insulting enough. But to openly cast a no-confidence testimony in his work on the record? Looking at the situation purely from a contract standpoint, it made not only him but the whole of Garden look bad. And she probably didn’t even realize that which was the most frustrating part. Zell’s words had helped in a small way, but this was messy and not at all what he wanted looming over him. He expected Quistis would want to discuss it later but later would have to be tomorrow because all he wanted to do was close himself up in his office and lock out the shame.

_Some Commander._

The keypad took the brunt of the abuse as he slammed the lock on. And then everything came loose. 

When he’d woken up this morning to an empty bed, that should have been the sign that today was going to be a fucking nightmare. And he didn’t even know what he did wrong or if he _had_ done  something wrong or misinterpreted it as something that it wasn’t and now he was trapped in this place with all kinds of tension and people he didn’t know where he stood with and his skin felt tight and his breath came too fast and he couldn’t make it stop and this was  _bad_.

There was a knock on the door as he slid down to the floor in front of his desk and put his head between his knees. Everything was out of control as the panic attack set in. 

“Go away.” There was so much strain in his voice that he didn’t sound like himself, like he was listening to someone else struggling for air. His arms weren’t his arms as they wrapped around his legs. 

“Squall? Are you okay?”

Fuck, he couldn’t face Zell right now. He couldn’t have that conversation with the open pit in his stomach swallowing up all his sense. “ _Leave me alone, please._ ” 

“...Is that what you really want?”

_ No. _

“Yes.”

Squall regretted it the moment he said it. Being alone through it was the worst part. But how could he be seen like this? The tiny rational part of his mind tried to imagine what he must look like. A grown man, a highly trained leader of an elite military organization, crumpled on the floor like a dumb kid. And that’s what it always came back to, wasn’t it? He kept getting thrust into these situations that he had no idea how to handle and in the end it always showed. He was still a dumb kid standing in the rain alone and fumbling to hold all of the responsibilities everyone kept dropping on him. 

Sometimes he wondered if saving the world from Ultimecia had been his destiny and now there was no good left for him to do. Like that was the one thing he had been allowed to do right and the rest of his life would be as pointless as it could possibly be.

It took a long time to calm down. When the storm passed, he sat in the quiet for a while. Feeling hollow. Letting himself be empty without judgement. Rinoa had never understood that, the need to feel nothing sometimes. And it was hard to explain. There was just so much inside him that he needed a break from himself once in a while. To sit in a dark room and hide from the flashbang brightness of his feelings. 

When he finally stood, his legs wobbled like a newborn. The first thing he did was check the damage on the keypad. The tech felt cold under his fingers, but it worked just fine. The door unlocked and slid open and a tiny part of him hoped Zell would be there. Waiting for him to come to his senses. Knowing he didn’t really mean it, that he only ever snarled and gnashed his teeth because he was afraid and anger looked better than cowardice. 

But this was the real world. And in the real world, the hall was empty.

_Congratulations. You are finally completely alone._

A sour taste filled his mouth. 

_......What now? Get back to work? Return to the reality that you’ve been putting off?_

It was tempting. Throw himself into his job like he had the last time. Pretend none of it mattered and he’d be just fine. That he’d be better without the distraction. 

But that would be a lie. The distractions were what kept him sane. Made him feel like his life was his own. 

And Zell was such a wonderful distraction. 

He sat down at his desk. Tapped his fingers against the wood. Then, he picked up the phone and did something stupid.

It rang three times. Then, Squall heard yelling.

“...-  _don’t care what he says! You tell that asshole I will tax his company into the ground if he doesn’t pay those people what they’re owed_ \- Hello?”

Squall blinked. “Bad time?”

“Squall? Hi! No, perfect time -  _get the hell out of my office_ _!_ How’s it goin’?”

He opened his mouth to speak. To ask about Ellone. To try to make himself useful by getting some information that would help instead of wallowing in his self-pity. Instead, a sharp breath gave him away. And of all the goddamn people in the whole world he should have cried to about his relationships  _twice_ , it should not have been the President of Esthar. 

“Hey, woah. You okay, bud? What happened?”

Squall huffed in frustration. “Sorry. I called for a reason, it’s just been a really weird day.”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” Laguna scoffed. “I’ve had so many snobby millionaires in my office today that it’s starting to smell.”

“.....Gonna take a second to remind you that you run the richest country in the world and live in a building with ‘palace’ in the name.”

“ _Okay_ , you know what I mean.” Squall could almost hear Laguna’s wild gesturing. “I’m talkin’ about the greedy ones. I swear, half of my job is just making sure no one is getting ripped off.”

Esthar had a thriving economy and a lot of that was Laguna’s fault. With things like minimum wage increases, free health care, and easy access to higher education, his people could live both comfortably and all that extra money poured right back into Esthar’s businesses. Laguna had held his county’s corporations on a tight leash until they saw his plans were working. Some crazy concept, how when you treat people like human beings and make sure they have what they need, they work better and can contribute to the economy.

“Soooo. What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?” 

Laguna laughed. “No one calls me unless they want to yell at me or feel better about something and you don’t seem like you’re in a yelling mood. So out with it.”

The nice thing about Laguna was that they didn’t see each other very often and if Squall said something stupid or overshared he knew a) Laguna would keep it private and b) Laguna would probably say something way more loudly personal a few minutes later. And Squall had no idea why he felt comfortable sharing anything with the man, other than the fact that he had seen Laguna’s most personal memories and that itself felt oddly intimate and it was hard to keep a firm wall up around someone you knew so much about. 

“When did you know you loved Raine?”

On the other end of the line, Laguna cleared his throat. “Well. She, ahhh. Hmm. What’s this about?”

“I just want to know.”

“Right. Okay. Well. She was just...” A chair creaked as Laguna sat down. “I came into the pub and she was reading the newspaper. It was early, and the sun came in just right. She had a cup of coffee sitting on the bar top and a pot of her favorite flowers next to her. And I walked in and just... looked at her. And it hit me. I guess.” 

“Did you fight?”

“All the time!” Laguna laughed wistfully. “She thought I was reckless. Hot-headed. Big trouble. A bad influence on Ellone. Until anyone else said those things out loud, and then I swear she would have fought them off with her bare hands. I think... you two would have gotten along really well. Y’know.”

Squall had always wondered what Raine saw in a man like Laguna. They were from two completely different worlds. From what he’d seen of her, she took no nonsense from anyone, and Laguna was nothing but a big heart full of nonsense. She’d taken care of him and in turn he just kept coming back, even when they fought, even when...

Hmm. Squall stopped that thought before the comparison between their lives hit too close to home.

“How do you...” Squall sighed. This was a really dumb question. “When you fought, how did you apologize?”

There was a thoughtful sound on the other end of the phone. “Assuming it was my fault, and it usually was... With honesty. And also groveling! I’m very good at groveling. But actions spoke louder than words with Raine, and gifts always worked for Ellone. You just gotta show you care. Hey, can I ask you something?”

Squall pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sure.”

“Are you and Rinoa...?”

“ _No,”_ Squall said, thumb falling to the locked drawer. “No, this isn’t about that. It’s... we’re not getting back together.”

“Oh!” Laguna sounded... relieved? “You’re moving on then. That’s great.”

_Am I? Can I do that?_

_...Can you tell?_

Squall cleared his throat. “I don’t... maybe? Something like that.”

Laguna clucked his tongue. “Listen to me. Anyone who makes you feel like you gotta cut off your feet to be the right height isn’t worth standing next to, ya know?”

Hell. It was a real bad day when Laguna’s wisdom made sense.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, kiddo! I’m like a slot machine of good advice. Put in a coin and out comes a different coin!”

_That’s......not how slot machines work?_

“And hey, next time you’re in my part of the world, I was thinking maybe we could get together and ahhhh. Talk about a couple things. You know. Guy to guy! Face to face! Its kind of...important stuff!”

Why did he sound so nervous all of a sudden? Why couldn’t they talk about it now? Squall rubbed his eyes tiredly. Laguna was so fucking weird.

“Yeah, that reminds me,” Squall sat up and braced himself. Acts of service. Right. If nothing else, he was going to get this junction issue solved. “I need to see Ellone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re gonna see some more Laguna in the near future because I just love him so much. 
> 
> I got so many guest kudos on that last chapter, thank you! But who are you, darling strangers, let’s be friends, drop a comment and say hi!
> 
> Writing playlist: Go Easy (Acoustic) - Matt Maeson


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m alive! I’m so sorry for such a long wait between updates. Working full time retail over holiday season isn’t very forgiving as far as free time goes. But we’re back in action! Bit of a content warning for this one; we’re exploring heavy angst and some graphic torture themes in this chapter. Thanks for sticking with me.

“I think it’s a very dangerous idea.”

“But you’re not saying no.”

Ellone sighed and tucked her hair behind her ear. “I’m not saying no. I just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into.”

It had taken a few days for her to make the journey to Balamb, but when she arrived she brought with her a presence so calming that Squall almost melted at her feet. She had given him a knowing smile, laid a delicate hand on his and said, ‘It’s going to be okay.’ 

He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed to hear that.

They’d spent the morning catching up; the last time he’d seen her was the wedding and she didn’t scold him about that which was a huge relief. But that was part of why she was so wonderful. Ellone never put the pressure on. Chalk it up to the fact that she was the only person in the world who knew him before the orphanage, but Squall had always felt at ease with her. And she listened to everything he said, engaged and thoughtful and without judgement or unprompted advice. And that meant the world.

“You’ve done it before,” Squall insisted. “I can handle it.”

“This is different.” She shook her head, kind face troubled. “I’ve never sent you through something so traumatic, and never for someone you care so much about. It won’t be a detached observation, Squall. It’ll hurt.”

Maybe that was a good point.

But what choice did he have?

Zell had been avoiding him and Squall’s anxiety was ratcheting up and up and up until he was sure he was going to burst like an overinflated balloon. Eventually he had broken down and asked Nida about it (since he seemed like the safest and most uninvolved-in-everything choice) and Balamb’s navigator informed him that Zell had gone on a diplomatic trip with Quistis a couple days ago. Which was yet another thing they should have run by him first that Quistis was taking her own initiative on. And that felt bad too. Felt like they thought they couldn’t trust him with decisions right now. 

Plus, Squall hadn’t been prepared to be unexpectedly separated again so soon. It was harder than he thought it would be. 

The fact of the matter was that he was out of options and something needed to go right. Which meant drastic measures had to be taken. 

“It doesn’t have to be long. I just need to see exactly what they did to him. I can’t fix this unless I know what the real problem is.”

To get her on his side, he decided he needed to be honest with her. So he dug deep into the last few months; the kidnapping, the torture, the junction problems. The dreams. The connection. He hadn’t quite told her why it was so personally important that he should be the one to fix this (still choked around words like ‘relationship’) but it was. And he was desperate.

“You don’t know that. Squall, you’re asking me to willingly subject you to abuse. We have no idea how long it will take because we don’t know what the breaking point was. If one memory doesn’t have what you need, how many will we have to go through before you find it?“

The look she gave him held the weight of the world inside it. 

_She’s right. This is a shitty plan._

For a moment, he wondered what he would do if she said no. There was no Plan B. 

“I have to try. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I know you will, and that’s what scares me.” She took a few steps toward the window. Trying to find answers in the sprawling architecture of the school. Ellone loved Garden. She told him once that it felt like a melting pot of all of her favorite places. It walked the line between the scenic peace of Winhill and the bustle and vibrance of Esthar, with a little bit of the White SeeD ship sprinkled in. She was always curious what life had been like for him growing up at Garden. And she was very supportive of his decision to try to make that life better. For himself. For the people he loved. For the family he’d found here.

_Please. Help me protect my family._

She turned to face him and for a moment he was a kid again, hanging on to his big Sis for strength. Knowing she would take care of him. And vowing to be strong if she couldn’t. 

“Alright then. I’ll do it. I need some time to prepare, but I’ll come find you when I’m ready. And Squall.” She paused. “You need to talk to him about this. Soon. Memories are very personal. Even with good intentions, I would hate for him to feel like you’ve invaded his privacy.”

Relief made him ache. Squall nodded noncommittally and didn’t mention that she was being a hypocrite. He couldn’t risk changing her mind by bringing up that she did the same thing to Laguna.

And truthfully, Squall would love to have Zell on board for this. It would save so much time to have a pinpointed timeframe. But that would mean they would have to talk and Zell was clearly not into that idea and would probably tell him not to do this anyway. And speaking from experience? Sometimes when you’re in a dark place, you don’t know what’s best for you. Someone had to beat down the door you keep slamming shut and drag you back into the light. 

Zell had always been that person for him. And if he needed to be that person now, goddamnit, Squall would. 

It took her a few restless and stress-filled hours (all of which he spent pacing a trench in the floor) but when she was ready she met him at the elevator with the doctor in tow. Kadowaki was noticeably quiet about her opinions on this little experiment, so Squall took that as a vote of support. She was just as frustrated by their helplessness as he was. He needed to remember they were on the same side.

Having everyone in his bedroom was weird though. He would have preferred doing this somewhere less Personal and In His Space, but Ellone insisted that being somewhere comfortable and familiar would help bring him back to reality when he woke up. As she stuffed an extra pillow under his head, the worry was written plain across her face, like someone had rearranged the stars in the sky to spell out her inner turmoil: Bad Idea, Please Reconsider; I’m Only Doing This Because You Asked For Help And You Never Ask.

Squall did not spend any time reconsidering.

“I’ll be here,” she said as she settled into a chair she had borrowed from his office. “I’ll see everything you see. But you won’t be able to hear me. You’ll be alone.”

_He was alone. I can take it._

“I understand.”

“I still think we should spread out our sessions - “

“Don’t have time.”

“- because there are some pretty nasty emotional side-effects to memory-hopping,” she said loudly, giving him a sidelong glance. “But since you’ve made it clear we’re on a time constraint, I will warn you that you might feel very sick and dizzy while you’re out. Just remember that whatever happens in there, it won’t kill you. I’ll make sure of that.”

He nodded. Clenched his jaw resolutely.

_Whatever it takes._

“Squall,” she pressed, tone soft and halting. Trying to make him understand. “No matter how much you want to stop it, you won’t be able to. He’s going to suffer. Nothing will change. Are you sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

An uneasy breath slid slow from her frowning mouth. Then, a hand covered his brow. “See you on the other side.” 

His ears started ringing. His body felt heavy. There was a familiar feeling of losing control. And then, like a high and unbearable tide, her power pulled him under. 

_Zell kicked his legs out wildly as they dragged him toward the car, trying to buy himself some time to think by being difficult. Once the kids got away and no one gave chase, he knew this was about him. And he had realized early that they weren’t shooting to kill._

_So they were going to take him._

_The first thing you learn about kidnapping is to avoid being moved to a second location. Fight like hell, get somewhere crowded, scream your head off. But fuck, he was so tired. And whatever that woman was holding in her hands made his head throb. It was cutting off a part of him in a way that felt like the D-District prison all over again. Only now, he was alone. And no one would be falling from the sky with a gunblade in hand like some glorious angel to save his life._

_All he had was himself; tired fists and neutered magic. The most he could do was make them work for it._

_There was a sharp and painful grip on his arms. These men were strong and fresh. They hadn’t been among the wave sent in to overwhelm him; most of those people were dead. The woman walking ahead of them had a look on her face like the cat that caught the canary and she shouted orders to her men that Zell could barely hear over the ringing in his ears and the desperation that drove him to dig his heels hard into the earth beneath him. Trying to leave some clue: I was here, try to find me. Promise you won’t forget._

( _I didn’t,_ Squall thought. _I couldn’t._ )

_When they hauled him up and threw him inside, his ribs nearly cracked under the force with which he hit the metal interior. Dizzily, he tried to orient himself, but a sharp and heavy weight pressed into his back. Cuffs were clamped tight around his wrists. His ankles were soon to follow._

_“Fucking cowards can’t take me down in a fair fight....“ The words puked from his mouth like venom. Silence wasn’t bearable. Silence was defeat. He twisted his head and tried to spit on the man crushing his spine with a sturdy knee. It missed, but his point was made._

_“Be quiet,” the big man growled. Zell couldn’t see his face but he hated it with a passion._

_“Fuck you. Where are you taking me?” He demanded, trying to wrestle himself free. The second smaller man pushed Zell’s face into the floor with a barking laugh. Then, it was lights out with swift strike to the skull._

_He came back to reality slowly as they pulled him still-bound down a damp and narrow hallway._ (These memories were hazy, incomplete.) _He was too delirious to make out many visual details, but snippets of conversation drifted in. “......without......just as we were told they would be.....left us with a perfect...”_ (With a clearer head, Squall tried to connect the pieces with little success. Something felt wrong about it, though.) _Sterile white light cast dancing shadows across stone walls._ (This was the place they found him. The place they almost lost him.) _Next thing he knew, there were machines, and searing pain skating up his spine. A needle stabbed into his arm before he even realized he was upright and hanging. Helpless and delirious. Weak. A pig tied up for slaughter._

_“What kinda fuckin’ mad science lair looking....” Zell slurred. His veins felt cold where the injection began. He couldn’t tell what it was but it made his skin crawl. “....some kinda wannabe cartoon super villains?”_

_The big ugly man cranked back and knocked a hard fist into Zell’s jaw. His head snapped sideways with a grunt, teeth feeling looser than before._

_“It would be better if you didn’t talk so much,” said the smaller one with mean eyes. He wore a professional sneer, like a man who kicked puppies in his spare time._

_Through a mouthful of blood, Zell laughed. Borderline hysterical. “Boy, did you grab the wrong guy for that.”_

The memory faded and Squall felt a rush of inertia, dizzying and violent. Ellone was moving him forward, to a later memory. Why? To spare him from something? It felt like standing on a train that was going too fast. Years ago, in Timber. Before everything. Zell had been with him then, running across the cars as the wind nearly knocked them off their feet. Almost falling to an early death - 

_The buzzing was back. Droning and irritating. Zell only noticed it sometimes, but when it came it would keep him awake. And that was frustrating because he rarely got time to himself these days and some rest would have been nice. They were ramping up their testing. Trying to incite a reaction. Trying to get information. Whatever it was they really wanted, they must have felt like they were close. And that scared him._

_And the fucking buzzing didn’t make him feel any better._

_If he could get himself to focus on something else, he could almost forget about it. But focusing on something else meant risking thoughts he couldn’t afford to have. Thoughts about things he missed. Things he might never see again._

_He had gotten very good at stopping those thoughts in their tracks. But he couldn’t seem to stop himself from thinking about Squall._

( _......?_ )

_It was a useful distraction from the buzzing. If he was very careful, treading the surface cautiously like a skater on a thin sheet of ice, he could get away with it for a while. Could think back on passive memories that flickered by like a montage of Things To Live For, before it got to hurting too much. Like how Squall’s hair curled against his neck in the summer. Or the way his voice got soft when he didn’t know how to respond to something kind. It was sweet, in that heartbreaking way. Like he’d lost the knack for accepting tenderness._

( _...You thought about me just as much as I thought about you, didn’t you?_ )

_There were so many things to miss. His awful sense of humor. The fire in his eyes when he and Quistis argued strategy. How he radiated heat when they sat too close together._

_Hyne, Zell missed being warm._

The feeling of moving again made him nauseous and Squall hadn’t been ready to leave that memory yet. But time was passing. They were getting closer to the moment. He could feel it like pressing a hand against a wooden door. Hot to the touch. Fire on the other side. Danger.

_Zell squeezed his eyes shut. Weaker now._ (Squall could feel the difference in his body. How the muscles twisted and cramped. How skin clung too tightly to bone.) _His scalp itched and sweat left him cold and clammy and normally they’d have stopped by now. But today was different. They’d been at it for hours. Questions and broken fingernails. Demands and electrocution. So much that the shocks were trapped in his arms and making him tremble. This was the day. They were going to break him._

_The woman in black and green leaned close. “Focus on the feeling, Mr. Dincht. Follow the lightning. What does it want from you?”_

_The helmet was too tight._ (Squall’s stomach ached.) _Zell’s voice was hoarse and distant. Lost in his pain as he fought for control. “No. I can’t. I won’t.”_

 _“You can and you will,” the woman insisted._ (Squall memorized her every feature, trying to focus on something that wasn’t the sickening way Zell’s head hung. Too heavy to lift.) _“We can save you, Mr. Dincht. We can help you. You have to let us help you.”_

_The shaking got worse. His eyes rolled back._

_“Activity in the frontal lobe!” The smaller man shrieked. He scribbled excitedly on a chart. “Keep going!”_

_“Once more!” The woman cranked up a dial and pulled a lever down. Zell wailed. The skin across his back blackened and split and the foam dripping from his mouth was tinged an alarming shade of pink. It was horror. “Yes! Pull it out! Pull it out of him!”_

_A blinding flash filled the room, and an uncomfortable suction felt like it was turning Zell’s skull inside out. He was seizing so hard he couldn’t breathe. The bigger man screeched in delight before slamming the lid down on some kind of carved stone box. A cacophony of alarms blared wildly and the woman injected a vial of dark blue liquid into Zell’s shoulder. Shushing him. Petting the wet slicks of hair out of his face. The terrible false comfort of an abuser._

_Zell’s body went limp._

_“You’re free,” she said. But Zell didn’t hear it. He was falling. Sinking down into something like thick black oil. Feathers waited at the bottom, long and gold and strange, that stung him where they touched his skin._

_He looked upward._

_There were fragments. Strings of light floating just at the edge of his vision. But something important was gone. Like a word on the tip of your tongue. Something you almost knew._

_He couldn’t feel anything inside him. For the first time in a long time, Zell was completely alone._

“.....breathing. It’s okay, Squall, I’m here. Breathe.” 

“He’s overwhelmed, he needs to - “

“I know, I - Squall? Can you hear me? Are you awake?” Ellone came into focus. Her cheeks were wet. She cupped his face in her shaking hands. 

Remorse, maybe. In her eyes. Regret. 

She saw it, didn’t she? 

Squall blinked a few times. Casting away the heaviness of dreaming. The fogginess of forgotten pain. 

This was reality, then. Happening now. 

Squall felt nothing. 

In shock, he supposed. Clinically speaking, that was probably for the best. 

If he had to feel it all right now he wasn’t sure what he would do. 

He wouldn’t have a choice about that soon. It would come. He would have to figure it out.

_No wonder he didn’t want to talk about this._

As he sat up, Kadowaki draped a blanket over his shoulders. His fingers were pale where he gripped at its soft edges. 

“How do you feel?” She asked quietly. Almost afraid to speak above a whisper. As if it would shatter him.

He nodded. Didn’t have the energy for anything else.

_Don’t think about it yet. It’s too much. Don’t think._

“Take this.” She offered him a small cup with a few pills inside. “It will help.”

He refused it. Couldn’t bring himself to swallow. Zell’s screaming made Squall’s throat feel tight. 

“Alright. I’ll be right down the hall if you need me.” She nodded sympathetically and, careful not to touch him too much, she excused herself.

Ellone took his hand.

“I’m here.”

It felt like the moment before a bomb dropped. He watched the sky. Waiting for impact. Knowing he couldn’t stop it. 

“It’s so much worse than I thought.”

He didn’t sound like himself.

“I know. Squall, I’m so sorry.”

A long-term junction becomes a core part of a person. The GF tangles itself up in the mind like an essential organ. Almost like symbiosis, the GF provides power and the SeeD host provides a viable home. Many long-term junctions lose their physical form outside their summons, which lessens their ability to survive outside their host. Summons get easier over time spent with the same GF because of the trust bond that develops, and that lack of form means less of a massive space to make room for in the brain. In layman’s terms, you get less sick and tired. You connect. You coexist.

Switching junctions and taking a GF out was a delicate and methodical process, and it could be very hard on the mind. Which was why it was easier for younger SeeD to switch back and forth with forces that hadn’t settled in so deeply yet. 

Forcibly removing a GF with a bond like Zell had with Quetzalcoatl would be devastating. Like losing a piece of your soul. 

And if the process wasn’t complete? What then? What would happen to Zell’s mind if a broken fragment of a damaged GF remained? 

“Hey,” Ellone said. “Try to breathe.”

A dark and primitive feeling overtook him. A deep mourning. Some rusted bolt fell loose and a door opened up. Inviting his emotions back in.

The pained sound he made was hardly human. 

And there it was. 

Impact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough chapter. Stay tuned for a little sunshine coming up. The darkest is behind us.
> 
> Writing Playlist: As It Was - Hozier


	19. Chapter 19

Diplomatic trips, Zell decided, were an absolute snoozefest.

Quistis took them very seriously, because she was a professional, and she was incredible at her job. And like, obviously Zell was a professional too. He could rub shoulders with the best of them and do the whole “we appreciate your continued friendship and support, blah blah give us money” spiel three hours deep into a good night’s sleep if he had to and he wouldn’t miss a single beat.

But just because he was good at it didn’t mean he liked it. 

Normally he lucked out and got to go with Squall to these dumb things, which made them a lot more bearable. Squall hated them just as much as Zell did and it was way more fun to sit back and poke fun at the elegant rabble while Quistis proved to everyone that Balamb had its shit together. And she would shake her head and pretend to be disappointed in them while trying (and failing) to hide the fact that she was secretly thrilled to be the one to represent Balamb on the world stage. She loved diplomacy, loved tackling problems with intellectual communication and political solutions, and she would gladly dive into any conversation anyone wanted to have about global policy. That’s why she and Squall worked so well as a pair; he had the eye for combat and she had the one for politics.

So without Squall around, Zell alone had been dragged along for the long and very exhausting ride up north to the reconstructed Garden at Trabia. Selphie _should_ have been the obvious choice but she had come up with a convenient excuse and he got the feeling it was a scheme to get him some fresh air. 

The celebration was due to the appointment of a new Headmaster, which was actually pretty neat because she was closer to their age than Martine’s and that meant she might not be super boring to talk to at Garden functions, _and_ she was Trabia’s first female leader. Which was insanely cool.

The party still sucked though. Like, it was fine, but Zell didn’t have the energy for it. It took about four seconds for him to secure a drink and another four to down it and go for a refill. Quistis abandoned him for a one-on-one with Trabia’s second-in-command, a short skinny man with a kind face and a love of the stock market. And maybe it was whatever grumpy vibe Zell was living comfortably in but no one seemed to want to get close enough to talk to him. Which was more relieving than it was stressful but mostly it felt kind of lonely.

Look, it wasn’t that he missed Squall. He didn’t. That would be ridiculous. He was too busy being angry at him to have time to miss him. Okay? Got it? Angry, not heartbroken. Two different things.

It didn’t matter that Squall shut him out. It didn’t matter that it felt weirdly permanent. Zell would be fine. 

It wasn’t long before he ditched the reception and went for a walk.

At least there was more to look at this time. Repairs to Trabia Garden had been slow but steady, and since he’d seen it last it looked more like a home and less like a war zone. But there was still a long way to go. The funding situation was delicate; it had been difficult to raise money when they didn’t have contracts coming in, and Trabia Garden was proud. They didn’t want pity charity. Squall had tried offering formal financial assistance from Balamb, but they had refused on the grounds that Squall wasn’t a Trabia alumnus. So, their brilliant Commander set up a scheme to funnel money for repairs directly to Selphie, who in turn gave it over to the Trabia Fund as a recurring goodwill donation to her beloved school. Zell suspected the leadership at T-Garden were well aware of how they were gaming the system. But they had said nothing. Probably because it gave them a way to both hold on to their dignity and to accept the money they desperately needed. 

He turned a corner and headed down past what used to be a crumbling piece of the garage that had now become a memorial hall running through an older part of the building that was too difficult to fully salvage. A wall of golden flowers had been woven beautifully across the interior pathway, warm and safe from the biting cold outside. Black pieces of silk were twisted and tied between the flowers like dark leaves, each in remembrance of those who were lost. 

It was a nice sentiment. Much less grim than the too-full cemetery outside. 

The quad was in better shape; the stage had been rebuilt and the lone leftover missile once taking up space had been safely removed. They must have been gearing up for their own Spring festival; long strings of lights glittered over tables made vibrant with glass and greenery. No one was hanging around tonight though. The reception was being held in the ballroom, and the older students were required to attend and get that good ol’ foreign policy experience. 

The rubble in the basketball court had been cleared away and a fresh batch of concrete had filled in the biggest cracks in the foundation. It was here they had realized who they were. How they were connected. Seemed like a century ago.

He slowed to a stop when he heard voices.

“You always ruin it!” A boy complained, stomping his foot. Too young to be full time yet. Maybe 7 or 8. “What are we gonna do now?”

“Help me up, stupid! I can reach it just fine if I stand on your shoulders.” A little girl with braids was trying to climb up to the basketball hoop, where their ball had gotten stuck between the backboard and the net. She didn’t get very far off the ground before slipping back down.

“Isn’t it past curfew?” Zell quizzed. Both kids went stiff immediately which made Zell giggle. He remembered those days. The dreaded Unexpected Adult Voice that always meant trouble.

It was so _weird_ being the adult in the room. 

“W-we were just....we were, and you see, because...” The boy stuttered nervously, avoiding Zell’s eyes. The girl, on the other hand, wrinkled her nose at him and waved a dismissive hand. Trouble, it seemed, was her specialty. 

“You don’t even go here, you can’t tell on us.”

“Don’t worry,” Zell laughed, throwing his hands up in a gesture of peace. “I’m no snitch.”

“Can you help us? _Someone_ was trying to show off and she messed everything up!” 

The boy shoved the girl, who shoved him back.

“I did not!”

“Yes you did!”

“Yo!” Zell interjected. “Chill, I’ve got it.”

The metal was cold under his fingers. Carefully, he hauled himself up, twisting his feet around to secure his position. Then, he pushed upwards. Climbing higher. The kids chattered excitedly as he reached the top and knocked the ball loose. And then, because he lived to be a show-off, he grabbed hold of the rim with one arm and hung there for a minute before dropping down, rolling into a handstand, and springing back upward to his feet.

“That was cool!!!!” The little boy exclaimed. “Are you a SeeD? SeeD are the coolest!”

_Squall would be rolling his eyes so hard right now._

“I am,” Zell said proudly, catching the ball that was tossed back his way. “I’m from Balamb.”

“Is it warm there?” The little girl said, skipping in a circle around them. “Does it rain a lot? Is your Garden bigger than ours?”

“Be quiet, ask about important stuff!” The boy was nearly wiggling out of his skin. “Do you like being a SeeD? Is it fun? Do you go on a lot of adventures?”

Zell bounced the ball a few times against the blacktop. “Yeah, it’s fun. Hard work though. You gotta study hard to be cool, y’know?”

They both nodded their heads rapidly. 

“We will! I want to do awesome stuff and save people! And ride chocobos! Do you have a chocobo??”

“No, I don’t.”

“Why not? You should get one!” The girl sing-songed. “Chocobos are so cuuuuuute!”

Valid point. He was gonna bring that up at the next staff meeting for sure. _Proposal to amend Garden code with addition of article CH-BO: all SeeD are to be gifted one (1) chocobo upon graduation and granted permission for use on contract, because they’re so cuuuuuute._

“So can you summon monsters?” The boy said.

Zell’s heart sank. The ball slipped out of his hands. 

“Ahhhhhhh. Well. That’s... complicated,” he said softly. “Sometimes you get.... tired. And you can’t do it all the time. I’m kind of...” _Broken._ “Taking a break, I guess.”

“But why would you want to - “

“There you are!” Quistis called. Then, she flipped the teacher voice on. A true oppressor. “And what are we doing out here this late?”

All three of them went stiff this time. Zell gulped.

“She’s not a cool adult like me,” he whispered urgently, “you better scram.”

The kids squealed and burst into a sprint, darting around The Oppressor and breaking in the direction of the dorms. Quistis watched them go and shook her head fondly. “Making friends?”

“Oh yeah. I’m the belle of the ball around here.” He plopped down on a nearby bench and stretched his legs out. 

“I can imagine.” She sat down next to him and nudged him with her elbow. “Have a good walk?”

“Yeah. It’s nice here. Peaceful.” Zell said, watching the breath push from his lungs into the crisp air. “They’re really pulling it together. Wish I coulda seen it before the missiles hit.”

“I visited once, when I was going through instructor training.” Her gaze traveling up to the sky. “Close knit community. Very friendly. Glad they haven’t lost that.”

Zell made a lazy noise of agreement. Couldn’t take his eyes off the stars. Which made him think of Squall. Everything apparently made him think of Squall now, which was annoying.

_You’re such a loser._

“You’re making a face,” Quistis observed, eyes falling to him again.

“Don’t feel like talking about it, thanks.”

“I won’t press then. You’ll be disappointed you didn’t tell me though. The school’s librarian cornered me for a full twenty minutes and I’ve gotten very good at my active listening face.” As a demonstration, she nodded and hummed thoughtfully, lips slightly pursed, with an empathetic hand on her chest. 

Zell laughed, and it felt good. Something that wasn’t so heavy. “Incredible.”

“I’m very good at what I do.” She loosened her tie a little and relaxed. A rare moment of Quistis with her guard down. “You ever think about retirement?”

“Pffffff,” he scoffed. “That’s old people stuff. Besides, SeeD don’t retire.”

She avoided that grim statistic with a wide berth. “I think if I ever do, I’d like to come here. Spend my days teaching somewhere quiet.”

Zell snorted. Only she would call a place that got hit by missiles ‘quiet’. 

“That sounds like working. I don’t think you know what retirement is.”

“Just from being a SeeD, I mean. It’s a hard life. You know.”

Zell escaped from the copper taste in his mouth by diverting his attention to his retirement plan. It would probably involve Squall. (If he ever wanted to speak to him again.) Maybe a house by the beach. Somewhere he would try to get up for his morning run and a lazy hand would make him stay, warm and safe in bed. Squall wasn’t much for mornings; he was a tried and true insomniac. But maybe not having the weight of the whole world on his shoulders would help with that. 

_What would he even do if he didn’t have to worry all the time?_

Zell resolved to have a garden. Grow his own vegetables. Plant a bunch of Ma’s favorite flowers.

He must have been quiet for longer than he realized because Quistis started talking again. “Had an interesting conversation with Trabia’s new Headmaster,” she said idly.

“Oh yeah? Didn’t get a chance to meet her.”

“That’s because you disappeared,” she scolded lightly, poking him. “She was amazing. I think we’re going to have a strong relationship with Trabia going forward.” 

“Great.”

There was a pause. 

“She mentioned she was looking for some new instructors.”

Zell sat up in alarm. “Wait, was that retirement talk for real? Because we’d be like, genuinely screwed without you. You know that, right?”

“Zell,” she said gently, “I wasn’t thinking for me.”

_........Oh._

He sank back again. 

“They don’t have a martial arts specialist on staff right now.” She gave him a moment. Waiting for a response. When she got none, she continued. “As you know, Balamb is the only Garden to study junctions and utilize the GF. It’s not an essential skill everywhere.”

“......Huh.”

Leaving Balamb? He couldn’t imagine it. Being a stone’s throw from Ma, and being surrounded by his friends. Those were his favorite things.

Going somewhere without the pressure of summons to worry about though...?

He could be useful.

Or, he would be running for the hills with his tail between his legs. 

She looked at him for a long time. Not with pity or sympathy or anything that made him feel like a big open wound. Just taking him in. Seeing him in that wise-beyond-her-years way of hers. Then, she rested her head on his shoulder and for some reason he felt like wrapping her up in his arms and letting it all out. 

It would be so easy.

But he didn’t. 

“I just want you to know there’s a place for you. No matter what. One thing doesn’t define you.”

It felt like it did. But it was comforting to have options. He nodded. She let him have another moment before she squeezed his hand and stood.

“Anyway. It’s getting late. Let’s pack up and get going.”

Zell took a breath in. Let it out. 

Then shook it off and crossed his arms. “What’s the rush? It’s not like Garden is gonna burn down overnight. At least not with Squall there to keep it on ice.” 

“Ahhh. So that’s what it is then.”

He shook his head. “Still don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Fine, but we have to not be talking about it on the ship. I made a promise to get you home in time for tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

She shook her head. “Very funny. Come on.”

“Q! Wait, I’m serious, what’s tomorrow?”

She didn’t answer and waved him along, so Zell dropped it and followed her, wracking his brain for what he forgot. He chalked this up to one of those things he probably knew at one point but just wasn’t there now. His memory was doing this fun thing lately where it was even worse than usual, and he’d taken to calling it Colander Brain. One minute he’d know something and the next it would fall through some hole and be lost for who knows how long. Eventually it would resurface at the most useless time. Mostly it was annoying but sometimes he found himself forgetting the name of someone he saw every day and that got alarming. 

As soon as they boarded she told him to get some sleep and he didn’t argue. Too tired to stop himself, he let his feet guide him and damn them for taking him to the place that had the memories he was trying to avoid thinking about. 

The captain’s quarters were neat and tidy. Sheets changed, bed made. No trace of what they’d done. He didn’t know why he expected there would be. Squall wouldn’t have left a mess. When his head hit the pillow, Zell thought about how warm and soft he knew Squall’s skin was and it lulled him into lonely sleep.

A few hours later, Quistis woke him up and Balamb glowed in an early morning light. He took his time walking back from the shop. And he wondered what Trabia looked like in light like this. If he could get used to that. Selphie had loved it there. 

_Am I seriously considering this?_

“Get some breakfast in you before you crash,” Quistis suggested, with a weird smirk on her face that reminded him she knew something he didn’t. But man, did that sound like a fantastic idea. It smelled so much like spring outside he could almost taste the lemon cakes Dottie promised she’d make special for the festival and it made his stomach rumble.

There were red and blue balloons tied up across the bottom of the menu board in the cafeteria. That was the first thing that gave him pause. And really, that alone should have clued him in. The second thing was that they were serving hot dogs for breakfast which like, it’s not like he was gonna complain? But it seemed like an odd choice? And the third thing was the shriek he heard from the kitchen. And before he could duck for cover, Dottie barreled out from behind the counter with her arms outstretched and she pulled him into a crushing hug.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!”

Zell blinked.

_Oh fuck._

New mental low. He had forgotten what today was. 

Today was his _birthday._

“It’s....what? I - uhhhh...?? yeah! Thanks!” He carefully pried her off of him and suddenly felt like he’d just come off a very long and disorienting auto-pilot.

“This is for you! It’s just a little something.” She looked like she was ready to burst. Hyne, she was so sweet and he was so _tired_. This was gonna be a long day. He slipped his fingers beneath the ribbon and popped open a small wooden box. Inside were note cards on which a very careful hand had written out several new recipes for him to try his luck at. He almost melted.

“I’m going to get so fat,” he said with a happy sigh, thumbing past multiple desserts. “This is the best.”

She smacked his arm fondly and then stacked up his plate and maybe today would be a turning point and things wouldn’t be complete shit for a couple of hours. Knock on wood.

He did manage to sneak in a quick and dreamless nap before Selphie came banging down his door to make him get dressed because apparently a “ _pretty small, not really a big deal but some of us wanted to celebrate, don’t worry about where it is_ ” party was waiting for him and how in the world she had time to plan anything the same week as her beloved festival was completely beyond him. 

She vetoed multiple outfits (“I just wanna be comfy on my birthday, Selph. It’s my party and I want sweatpants.”) before she shoved him out of the way and went digging through his closet herself (“We are going for unattainably hot apology-chic, not _homeless_ , this is _important_.” “That’s not... ! I don’t want - you know what, never mind, I’m not going.” “Zeeeeeeeell!”) Eventually she relented and let him wear jeans on the condition that he wore nice shoes and the light-weight crew neck sweater she got him last spring that fit a little too tight. Because the blue apparently made his eyes look pretty and this whole thing was dumb and he wasn’t trying to impress _anyone_ and there was no point making a big deal about this, right? Go away.

But Selphie was the queen of Making It A Big Deal. And by the time they made their way to the elevator, he was jittering with nerves. He complained the entire way there, because that was one of his Birthday Rights, and she smiled and nodded and cooed sympathetically and pressed the button for the bridge and there was no way Squall would allow something to be planned that close to his office, right? It would annoy him too much to have to hear it. Fun was bad, blah blah, lame. 

And there was no way he’d show up. 

As the doors opened, Selphie shoved him out on the third floor. Which had been decorated beautifully and Hyne, she really could do everything. Gold ribbon hung from the ceiling in elegant twirls and a small hand-written birthday banner hung across a wall, beneath which strings of lights hung with photographs dangling from the lines with clothespins. Zell’s breath caught somewhere between his overflowing heart and the tightness of his throat. 

“Surprise!” Selphie squeaked. 

Zell pulled her into a big hug. “This is _too much_ ,” he said, trying not to sound as overwhelmed as he was. The sentimentality of it all was smacking him right in the _I didn’t think I’d see another birthday_ thing he couldn’t get off his mind. 

She squeezed him hard and kissed him on the cheek. “It wasn’t my idea,” she said cryptically. But before he could ask about _that_ particular piece, she was pushing him toward the group clustered around a buffet table and people were smiling at him. She wasn’t lying when she said it wouldn’t be a lot of people he’d have to grapple with. Just the people he was closest to. The people who kept his heart beating. The people he loved more than anything.

And there, in the corner of the room as far from attention’s center as he could be, Squall leaned against a wall and nursed a drink. His favorite party pastime. Trying to look like he wasn’t anxious. 

And. He’d dressed up. 

He only did that when something was really important.

Dark hair waved beautifully against the sharp cut of his shoulders and the dress shirt he wore had to be new because Zell would remember something that looked that good on him. It was a crisp white with sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Buttoned lower than it probably needed to be. And Zell stopped his train of thought before it threw itself off the rails at the way Squall’s pants fit. His heart twitched hard in the pit of his chest and he fully believed if Squall even looked at him right now he would fall over and explode. 

_Stop being like this, you idiot. You are mad at him._

But fuck, it had been ages since they’d even been in the same room together and just looking him made Zell feel like his heart was standing in a hurricane banging pots and pans and screaming love songs to the wind. 

Squall felt like coming home.

And _shit fucking goddamnit_ , he caught Zell staring.

To avoid imminent explosion, Zell ducked his head and made a break for the drinks. Not that he was running away or something stupid like that, he was an adult. It was just that his mouth was very dry all of a sudden and he needed something to hold on to or he was going to die.

The room was small enough that his attempted escape didn’t succeed. He could feel the approach like thunder warning of a lightning strike before the tentative hand came to rest on his shoulder and it still made him jump out of his skin. He nearly dropped the glass he was holding and only barely managed to recover and turn around without knocking Squall in the chin with his elbow. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you.” Squall said, letting him go like he’d burned himself.

But he didn’t step back. He hovered just close enough to block out anything else Zell could have possibly focused on. So his gaze darted from Squall’s eyes to his lips to his shoulder and back to his lips and then settling on his hair before taking one final hard turn to that perfect little dip where his throat met his collar bones.

He knew what that spot tasted like.

_Bastard._

“I’m good,” Zell said, breathier than he meant to. He felt like he was spinning. Because he hadn’t expected this. That Squall would even be here, or that he wouldn’t make Zell play a rigorous game of mental tennis with himself all night about whether he should go talk to him. Like a kid ripping petals off a flower, _he hates me, he hates me not._

No, Squall putting himself in Zell’s space and initiating conversation seemed bold for being angry; his style was more of cold isolationism. 

......Was he not mad then? 

“It’s good to see you,” Squall said. Tense but not unkind. Zell didn’t miss the quick way Squall’s eyes dropped to look him over.

_Point one for the sweater._

“You too,” Zell replied, fingers itching to touch. “Did you know about all this or did Selphie just barge in and decorate while you were at lunch?”

“I knew,” Squall laughed. There was worry somewhere behind it. Then, he leaned in closer. Talking low. Zell breathed in deep as the back of Squall’s hand brushed against his own. And he was wearing cologne. _Fuck_ , he smelled so good. “Could I have some of your time later? I’d... like to talk.”

Zell cleared his throat. Trying to remember that Squall had slammed the door and shut him out. Told him to leave. Hurt his feelings. Made him worry. Made him feel like he’d made a million mistakes.

But.

Zell had known Squall long enough to understand how difficult it was for him to come right out and express what he was really feeling. It took a lot of focus for him to externalize the things he spent so much time brooding about. But he cared deeply. His emotions got so raw and messy sometimes and Zell knew Squall felt safer keeping it behind the mask. He was terrified of being vulnerable. 

So this. It was a big step for him. Big acts of heroism and displays of devotion were easy. Talking about it was hard.

And all of this was a man trying very hard to make an effort. 

_He’s trying to apologize._

“Sure.”

Relief flickered across Squall’s face.

“Thanks.” Then, a small wrapped package was placed in Zell’s hand. “Secret area. I’ll wait for you.”

The wrapping was exactly what Zell expected it would be. Black paper creased neatly around the corners with a small golden ribbon. It wasn’t anything flashy, but Squall took the time to wrap it and that meant something. Said gift-giver was already stalking off and down the hall when Zell looked up to say thanks. 

He felt warm.

“Which one of us is more of a disaster do you think?” He said to no one in particular.

“Oh, definitely him.” Rinoa leaned into his sightline. “Hi, Zell.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: “hmm I wonder what the people want in our upcoming smut chapter”  
> every single one of you, popping out of the ground like adorable little moles: “did you say bottom zell???”
> 
> I love you, thanks for reading. Tell me your thoughts, let’s talk about what’s in this mystery present?
> 
> Writing playlist: Little Miss Why So - The Amazing Devil


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How often do you get to post a chapter about Zell’s birthday on his actual birthday?! I couldn’t resist waiting. Good news is this is a very long chapter (oops) and I’ve gotten a good chunk of our next chapter written already. I’m also officially on two weeks of leave from work so I’ll have a lot of time to focus on our boys. :)

“Happy birthday,” she said, as if this was a totally normal situation and he wasn’t just thinking about how head over heels stupid he was for her ex-husband.

Zell hadn’t even seen Rinoa since what his mind had started calling The Worst Debrief In Human History. Garden Command had been keeping her a careful secret. As far as most of the students knew, she had only stayed for an evening to make her statement before her suave suitor and bodyguard Grant whisked her away to Dollet for safety. But that was just one of the many stories explaining why she’d disappeared. Other students believed she had never been at Garden at all. There were even whispers that the assassins had been successful in Deling and Galbadia was covering it up. Caraway’s press team was all over the rumors, feeding false leads to the tabloids and keeping the world’s eyes away from Balamb while they decided what their next steps were in dealing with the threat. 

It made Zell a little crazy. Half the world’s mysteries were just carefully coordinated PR stunts.

“Thanks!” The box felt heavy all of a sudden. He wanted to open it, but then she’d ask ‘ _what’s that?_ ’ and he’d have to awkwardly explain ‘ _oh, it’s a present from your ex-husband to me, because recently we sort-of-kind-of-basically fucked and then you started a fight at that debrief and I got put in the middle of it and now he hasn’t spoken to me in days but I think he’s trying to make things better which is cool but I don’t think this is for your eyes actually, haha! Crazy right, sorry!_ ’

It just felt too private a thing to share with her. But she wasn’t looking at him anyway. Instead, her gaze traced Squall’s path of retreat as if some piece of his presence was still tangible. And maybe it was. Maybe she felt the same pull he did, even when they were apart. There was a gravity to being so close to someone like Squall. Crushing and wonderful. It was easy to feel him like a North Star, steady and bright and constant and true, demanding thought and consideration. 

“He really is something, isn’t he?” She said. It didn’t sound bitter. Just a statement of fact. One Zell wholeheartedly agreed with. Yes, Squall was a force of nature. Someone who burned hot and sucked you in like the breath before a supernova. A Someone and a Something with a capital S. 

“I hated him for a long time. But he does that to people, doesn’t he? Makes you feel things he isn’t ready for. And then he makes himself a punching bag so you don’t blame yourself when things go wrong.”

_Yikes._

Zell had often wondered what it had been like, in those last few days of their marriage. He knew what Squall’s anger looked like. Had sat with him through his despair and regret, in the rare moments he had allowed them to come out. But Squall was tight lipped about details.

_Saying Squall had been hasty in accepting this contract would have been the understatement of the year. And he had been in an awful mood the entire trip, which could partly be blamed on the contract itself being an absolute shit-show. If Zell had to rank them, it was close to the top of his “worst jobs post-apocalypse” list (which he had to make because stopping the end of the world kind of made everything else pale in comparison so a new list felt appropriate) and they had been doing a lot of those lately, with Squall personally tagging along like an angry rain cloud showing up everywhere that the people who were trying to find some sun were going._

_Wanting to get back to work and find some normalcy was understandable. But this had a stench of Avoidance all over it. Which for Squall wasn’t exactly out of character. But Zell wasn’t oblivious to the fact that this was different, had noticed how much he tossed and turned and sighed and paced when he thought Zell was sleeping._

_But it kept Zell awake. Not because Squall was making too much noise (he was practically a ghost) but because he couldn’t shake the concern eating away at him._

_After three nights of it, Zell finally stepped in. He followed Squall on his nightly wander until he ended up standing in the bathroom gripping the sink with white knuckles and staring in the mirror as if his reflection had an answer he needed and if he just waited long enough eventually it would open its mouth and share it’s wisdom. Zell leaned in the doorway and waited, planning to bring it up when Squall came back to himself and noticed he was there. But twenty minutes passed and Squall wasn’t moving. The train rocked beneath them and Zell could see the strain around Squall’s frame like tiny cracks in a sheet of glass. Getting longer and more devastating with every passing minute. Ready to shatter into a million pieces._

_“Hey,” he said calmly, dipping his toes into that heavy sphere of self-hatred. This was a car speeding down the highway toward a spectacular breakdown and Zell needed to pump the brakes before it crashed. “Where are you right now?”_

_Squall startled like someone had yelled._

_“Sorry.”_

_“For what?”_

_“....I don’t know.”_

_“You don’t have to be sorry.” Zell reached out a hand. “Do you want to sit down? Maybe we can talk about it?”_

_“.....No, I’ll be fine. I just need some sleep.”_

“Who do you blame?” Zell asked her, trying to be casual.

Rinoa fixed him with a searching look. Underneath the glamour of being the Sorceress, Zell could still see the girl they met in Timber. A little different, but still so young. 

“You know, I’ve thought about that a lot.” She laughed quietly. “I don’t know. I just blame life, I guess. It’s easy to like someone you just met, who’s handsome and mysterious and brave. And it’s easy to get swept up in the end of the world, and easier to fall in love when everything else is hard and scary and loving someone feels like an act of rebellion against all that darkness. You know? But when everything else goes back to being easy? When you realize the thing holding you together was the circumstance and not the connection?” Rinoa shrugged, seeming far away. “I loved him. And I know he loved me. But we could never just sit and hang out. Squall and I don’t have a lot in common when we’re not fighting for our lives. And I can’t blame either of us for that not being enough.”

_“Did one single person get question 8 right? Or does everyone just black out and drool when we start talking Status-J?” Squall dropped his new glasses onto the desk and rubbed his eyes. Which was a huge relief for Zell because were thin silver reading glasses that made Squall look unbearably dignified, and they had been Doing Things to Zell’s emotional well-being._

_“Listen, I’m fully aware of how boring I sound. It’s so hard to teach something that’s practically second-nature.” Zell flipped another packet into the Graded pile. His was much taller than Squall’s, because Squall took the time to write meticulous notes and corrections in red pen in the margins, while Zell preferred to discuss the most frequently missed questions lecture-style in the next class. He was still getting the hang of the teaching thing, and asking Squall to be his mentor had been both practical and also a little selfish because it meant they got to spend more time together._

_“I don’t think you could be boring if you tried,” Squall said idly, so thoughtless that he must have meant it. Warmth spread over Zell’s cheeks. He hid it behind his notebook._

_A half-read packet was abandoned as Squall tried to balance his pen on his nose, which was both hilarious to watch and also a clear sign Squall’s enthusiasm for helping Zell grade midterms was fading fast. But he wasn’t kicking him out yet and that was a good sign._

_(There was a pair of small pink spots on either side of Squall’s nose where the pads of his glasses had been resting. It was painfully cute. Zell suffered.)_

_“You know what you need?”_

_“Twelve hours of sleep and a stiff drink?”_

_“Probably. No, I’m gonna get you one of those chains for your glasses like an old lady.”_

_Squall shot him a soft glare. Then, the veneer cracked and his face broke into an unexpected smile. He flung his pen at Zell. “You know? I was trying to be mad, but I’d probably love it.”_

Zell cleared his throat. “I guess not.”

Somewhere nearby, Irvine was laughing with Selphie as she smeared a piece of cake across his cheek. On the other side of the room, Grant and Quistis were trapped in a discussion that was probably about strategy judging from the look of furious bemusement on her face, and Nida slid a breadstick into her pointedly gesturing hand so smoothly that he must have been reading her mind. 

It would be hard to be with someone you couldn’t just.... _be_ with.

“I don’t think you’ll have that problem though,” Rinoa said. Hesitant. Wringing her hands a little. 

Zell met her eyes, and his stomach dropped out of his body and landed somewhere deep in the center of the earth.

She knew.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck -_

“Ahhhhhhhhh,???did - “ _fucking fuck_ “well!, it’s,” _!!!!!???_ “uhhh, like....it’s not, I mean, what did you - “

“Grant told me.” She scuffed her foot against the ground. “He wasn’t aware that I didn’t know Squall was....like that. You know.”

Blood rushed in his ears. Something curled in his stomach like a thorn growing from the stem of a flower it wasn’t supposed to be on.

_........’Like that.’_

_In his defense,_ Zell didn’t say, _I don’t think he knew either! But you know me, I love to charge in and ruin a good self-concept!_

But making a joke didn’t feel right, because it didn’t sit well with him. The phrasing, maybe. Or the presumption that it was any of her business anymore. 

And he knew Rinoa. It wasn’t like his own sexuality was a secret, and she had never made him feel weird about being gay. So it probably wasn’t that she had a problem with that particular piece. But she clearly did have a problem with _some_ part of it. 

_“I feel like I can’t have my own feelings. You know? She always wants to fix everything.” Squall rested his cup against his forehead and closed his eyes. Before Zell had been able to track him down, Squall had been laying on the floor for who knows how long behind his desk, hair fanned out around him like the crown of a ruffled bird. Instead of questioning or trying to get him up, Zell just laid down beside him and listened. “But instead of actually fixing anything, she just makes it about her? And how my problems make her feel? Sometimes things can’t be fixed. Sometimes I just have to feel it. Does that make sense? Am I crazy?”_

_“You’re not crazy,” he said firmly. The press of their shoulders felt comforting. “What are you going to do?”_

_“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can keep doing this. Isn’t it supposed to get easier when you love someone?”_

“Zell, your face!” She said, and he must have been frowning because his face felt tight. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you. I’m not, like. Angry.”

His teeth creaked as he clenched his jaw.

_Are you kidding me?_

_......What right would you have to be angry?_

That was enough. He decided then to make a hasty exit and recognize that the universe would write this down in his cosmic life book as one of the most uncomfortable conversations he’d ever had, and that would be the end of it. He would talk to his friends and open his present. He would have a good time.

But then she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly and his mouth tasted sour. “Do me a favor? Don’t tell him I know?” She whispered. “I hope he’ll talk to me when he’s ready, and I don’t want him to shut down because he thinks I’ll be upset.”

And that?

Fuck, it just made him mad. Zell, the king of free association, the human personification of an endless ramble, couldn’t find words.

So he just patted her back stiffly. Heart hammering. Everything was too cramped in his chest. “Sure.”

Across the room, Selphie had caught his attention, picking up his distress like some kind of psychic helicopter mom. A second later she was shoving her way through the group and scurrying over to the rescue. “Zell!! Birthday cake!!!”

Rinoa let him go abruptly and Zell made a mental note to buy Selphie a crown for being one of his very best friends in the whole wide world. 

“I’ll talk to you later?” Rinoa squeezed his arm and retreated just as Selphie skittered to a halt.

“You good?” She murmured as she pushed a plate into his hand, eyeing Rinoa suspiciously. “What was that about?”

“Oh, you know. The usual.” Zell deadpanned, stuffing cake in his mouth. It helped chase the bitterness away. “She found out her ex-husband and I have a thing and thought my birthday party was a good time to bring it up.”

“ _Woof._ ”

“Mhm.”

“You gonna go talk to him?” 

Zell took in the room. Seemed like a shame to leave early, when so much effort had clearly been put in. Of course, party planning was Selphie’s bread and butter, so what looked like days of planning had probably been done with a snap of her fingers. And talking to Squall probably wouldn’t take all night, he could always come back and - 

“Oh for the love of... stop the internal exposition and _go!_ ” She snatched his plate back and bumped him with her knee. 

“Ow! You won’t be mad?”

“I will only be mad if you _don’t_ ditch your birthday party to go sleep with Squall.”

“Now _wait a minute - !_ ”

“Relax! I’m kidding!” There was a twinkle in her eye that told him she was definitely not kidding as she steered him toward the elevator. “For what it’s worth, I have a good feeling that your talk is going to go well, so don’t worry.”

“What does that mean?”

“Zelllllll!” She pushed him inside. “Just trust me! I know everything!” 

And then the doors closed. And down he went. Clutching his present to his chest like a moron. He used to dread this dumb elevator, back when Cid was Headmaster and it was mostly an Only In Case Of Something Official Or You’re In Trouble kind of place. When he was younger he never would have thought it would be a habit to make the trip up just for fun. Or that his best friend would be running the whole place. Or that he would be sneaking away to meet said best friend in a place that people usually went to make out. It was past curfew, so things were quiet at least. No one to watch him wander in a daze toward the training grounds. Like a dummy. A big dumb idiot lovesick moron.

The distant part of his brain that was still sort of working recognized this could go several ways: 

1\. Squall says “sorry”. Obviously the best scenario! They talk about their feelings and maybe make out.

2\. Squall says “sorry, but”. He apologizes for being an ass BUT recognizes he’s not ready to be out about their relationship and they have to be a secret. Not ideal but still maybe includes making out which might be okay.

3\. Squall says “sorry, but” v. II. He apologizes for being an ass BUT tells Zell he doesn’t actually want to be together and it was all a hilariously upsetting misunderstanding, oops! Heartbreak abounds. 

4\. Zell gets eaten by the T-Rexaur before he even gets to Squall, which is actually probably the best scenario, scratch off option one.

But damn if the path wasn’t perfectly safe. Not one single monster wanted to be a pal and hop in to save him from his worry-brain going full worst case scenario mode. 

It was quieter still when he forced himself through the doorway to the secret area. He couldn’t decide if they’d chanced upon the rare time no one else was there or if seeing the Commander in their secret sexy no-adults-allowed spot had scared everyone so badly that they’d scattered like mice. Which was a funny mental image because the looks on their faces would be priceless and Squall would never admit it but he secretly loved watching people panic when he walked into a room. 

As for the man in question, Squall’s shape was a soft and leaning silhouette against the haze of Garden’s glittering lights. Some kind of still-life painting of uncertainty. No matter how many times he laid eyes on him, Zell still got butterflies.

He took a few breaths. Trying to swallow down the nerves popping up into his throat like pieces of popcorn that sounded like apologies. Because he was not going to apologize for doing his job. He did what he was supposed to do. Squall couldn’t hate him for being honest.

Even if it meant agreeing with his ex-wife.

The ex-wife who knew things about him that Squall probably wasn’t ready for her to know. 

Fucking hell.

_Please don’t let this be the end._

“Are you brooding on my birthday?”

Squall straightened and whipped around. “You came.”

“You asked.”

“Didn’t mean you had to.”

They stared at each other for a long time.

“How are you?” Squall asked. Something was definitely on his mind. A button on his shirt was the subject of a particularly twitchy fidget.

“I’m fine. Trabia is cold.” _Everything is boring without you._ “Glad to be home.”

Silence again. 

“You look great,” Zell tried. It was the understatement of the year. Their dear Commander had always been easy on the eyes but tonight he was in top form. All sharp angular bones and pale creamy skin and expensive looking fabric pulling tight against hard muscle. Distantly, Zell’s mind pulled him back to Squall laying naked beneath him, bathed in moonlight. _Very unhelpful and uncool, brain._ “Is that new?”

Squall’s hair fell in front of his face as he looked down. Hiding a smile. “Thanks, yeah, I.....went shopping.”

It sounded foreign in his mouth. Imagining Squall on a shopping spree was absurd and so sweet it was toothache-inducing. He’d gone out and bought new clothes for Zell’s birthday party. Had he gone alone? Fussing over the right look in a dressing room somewhere? Accosting some poor attendant with an _‘excuse me sir, do these leather pants make my ass look good enough to grovel in?’_

“Damn. Sad I missed that.”

“Me too.” 

More silence. He hated it. It felt like playing tennis with a flat ball. Like they’d forgotten how to talk to each other. Or they were dancing around the whole issue because neither of them knew where to begin.

“I haven’t had - “

“I wanted to - “

They both stopped talking at once. 

Zell giggled. 

“You go first,” Squall said.

“Your’s sounds more important.” 

“No - I mean, it is important, but - “

“I haven’t opened it yet.”

Squall blinked. Then, he turned pink. “Oh. Well. That’s okay. You don’t have to, like. Right now.”

But Zell was already peeling up the tape, delighting in the way Squall’s foot bounced with nerves. If Squall was going to do something nice, he would have to deal with the consequences. 

When the wrappings came off, a small velvet box was revealed. The lid popped easily and inside was the most beautiful watch Zell had ever laid eyes on. Black and sleek and minimalist, with a flat circular face and a pop of gold on the minute hand for some subtle flair. The band felt sturdy but flexible, and upon further inspection Zell saw his initials and SeeD ID number had been engraved on the back of the casing. 

It was absolutely stunning.

“Do you like it?” There was an edge to Squall’s voice, which Zell barely heard because he was entirely distracted by how _pretty_ the thing was. 

“Where in the world did you get this?” Zell wondered, a little giddy. “Should I worry about you going into debt?”

“Well....” Squall’s face darkened to an unexpected red. “Don’t be mad.”

“Why in the world would I be - “

“It’s Odine.”

The breath in his lungs left in a rush of disbelief. Zell wheezed. “I’m sorry, _it’s what?!_ ”

Looking closer, the signs were all there. The craftsmanship was top notch. It wasn’t a secret that Zell was as bit of a jewelry buff. Hell, he’d made Rinoa’s wedding ring. And even though he couldn’t really stand the doctor himself, Zell was still a big fan of the quality of Odine’s pieces. They were elegant and one of a kind and insanely rare. Which meant either Squall had somehow stolen and repurposed something very valuable...

Or he’d had it custom made. 

Which was just... completely incomprehensible. Zell had no business owning something like this. For a moment, he felt weightless and very, very spoiled. 

“I can’t believe you.” He scolded. Then, he grinned. “Help me put it on?”

There was a look of quick relief in Squall’s eyes as he stepped in close. Gentle fingers brushed against Zell’s wrist as he secured the band and it fit like it was made exactly for him, with the added bonus of covering up one of his least favorite torture scars. The touch lingered after the task was done, and in an instant Zell felt like some old-timey maiden from a fantasy novel. Dizzy with warmth and ready to faint. 

“It does a lot of stuff,” Squall said distractedly. There were buttons on the side that he pressed through, showing off a few features. Stopwatch, heart and sleep monitor, compass, GPS. “And it has an alarm. So you won’t be so late all the time.”

Hyne, he was making _jokes_ now. 

“You didn’t have to get me something so nice.” If this was the start of his apology it would end very well for him. Like, not-leaving-bed-for-three-days well. 

“You deserve it.” Gently, Squall’s fingers skimmed feather-light up Zell’s arm toward his shoulder. As if he was hoping Zell wouldn’t notice. (But of course he noticed. He felt every touch like a drum beat on his nervous system.) “And I have a stupid amount in savings. I’m sure the bank appreciated me lightening the load a little.”

A _little_. This had to have cost him a fortune.

“What’s the big thing it does?” Zell asked. Odine jewelry was always enchanted. And he doubted Squall would splurge for something like this if it didn’t do something useful.

“It’s a.... “Squall cleared his throat. “Well, it should help with the nightmares.”

“......Oh.”

A wave of emotion crashed hard into Zell’s gut.

Every night was fear. Either that he’d have another waking nightmare or that if he didn’t, something worse would happen. It didn’t feel like his condition was declining but it definitely wasn’t getting better and he knew he should talk about it but it was just so damn hard. No one knew what they were really asking of him. It was still too fresh to talk about it, to reflect on it, to relive it. What good would it do? To rip off his own mask and put on display the panic still creeping around across his bones like hungry little worms? Everyone would freak out and treat him like a baby. And if they freaked out then he would freak out and he didn’t know how to say that if he started crying he wouldn’t know how to stop. So no. It was better to keep it on. To keep his head safely above the water and hope someday he would look around and see that he had somehow made it to dry ground. 

But with this? A chance at some real, genuine rest? What a fucking concept. 

A delicate touch on his chin stirred him from his thoughts and he realized he hadn’t said anything. “Hey. You don’t have to take it,” Squall reassured, “I don’t want to make you feel like you need the help or - “

“Squall.” Zell breathed, finally finding his words. “I love it. Thank you.”

The tension between them pulled insistently on his heart like a kid tugging his dad’s shirt for attention. 

_You’re in love with him,_ it nagged.

 _I know,_ he thought back at the feeling, _I’m well aware, thank you very much._

“So. I guess I’ll say my thing now.” Squall’s hands fell away. Back to their fidgeting. Twisting that same unlucky button. “I wanted to apologize for - “

“Forgiven. I know you didn’t mean it.”

Squall’s brows furrowed and he took a resolute step back. “No. Don’t let me off the hook that easy. I don’t want to buy your forgiveness with a present, I owe you more than that.”

“But it’s a _very cool_ present,” Zell supplied helpfully. This was a very Squall thing to get riled up about. _Forgive me, but not until I’ve earned it, and I won’t agree with you on when that is!_ He got so noble about things. But it was clearly important to him to do this properly so Zell didn’t push. And it really did mean the world that he was so focused on getting it right, because apologizing and setting his feelings to words had never been Squall’s strong suit and Zell knew how much it bothered him to struggle publicly. 

So patiently, he waited for Squall to figure out how to start. Which... took a few minutes. His mouth moved a couple times, starting and then aborting sentences. Almost like he didn’t think he’d actually get this far before Zell shut him out so he hadn’t prepared enough. After a few attempts, he huffed out an impatient breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“I don’t want to lose you but I keep pushing you away.”

“Self-fulfilling prophecy right there.”

“Right. And now I don’t know how to say what I want to say because this was so much easier in my head.” With a spectacular frown, Squall looked up to the sky. A cherished habit he had developed for when he didn’t know how to deal with Zell. “You make everything so loud.”

Zell crossed his arms, a ghost of a smile curling his lips. “Okay, weird time to remind me I’m annoying.”

“That’s not what I mean!” Scrubbing a hand over his face, Squall grunted out a frustrated noise. Then, the pacing started. And _then_ it was like someone had shoved a key into a rusted lock and finally got it to turn and the door flew open and a bunch of words like knick-knacks in a hoarder’s nest came tumbling out in one big heap. Squall started talking at a rate that could have put even Zell to shame. 

“Did you know that you’re all I think about now? All the time? And do you know how absolutely crazy it’s making me? It yells over everything. I can’t focus. Like, ‘I wonder what Zell’s doing? Is he okay? Will I see him today? Should I call him? Did he sleep alright?” 

Uncharacteristically wild gestures made Zell think of Laguna.

“‘Why do I care so much? What do I want?’ And then I fall down another rabbit hole, like ‘when did I start wanting this? What do I do if I get it?’ I feel like a dog who finally caught the squirrel he’s been chasing off his porch for months and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it now.”

 _Am I the squirrel in this analogy?_ Zell thought unhelpfully. 

“There is so much about myself that I don’t understand and now there’s all this on top of it and every time I think I have an answer, I find another question. And I am so tired of having questions that I can’t answer.” He stopped abruptly. Wide-eyed, like he hadn’t meant to say that much. “And then I ask myself, ‘why am I even doing this again? Did I learn nothing?’”

A chill of disappointment creeped over Zell’s skin. 

_This is it. Option 3._

“Squall, if you don’t want to do this, it’s okay,” he said through a plastic smile, feeling like someone was scraping off pieces of his heart with a chisel. But he would put on a brave face. Squall didn’t owe him anything. If he wasn’t ready or didn’t want it, what Zell had gotten was more than enough. 

Or at least that’s what he would tell himself to make it easier.

But Squall gripped Zell’s shoulders tightly, snapping him out of that thought like whiplash. “Fuck, _stop doing that_ , stop giving in, stop acting like you’re not worth it. It makes me so angry.” The look in his eyes was fire and righteous adoration that took Zell by surprise. Then, he softened. “I do want it, Z. That’s what I’m trying to say. I’m sorry, it’s all coming out so bad. I’m not good at this.”

The sudden crushing gravity eased up a little. It was replaced by a bubbling hope that made Zell’s stomach feel fizzy. He covered Squall’s eyes with his hands. “Okay. Just. Take a breath.”

“What are you doing?”

“You said it was better in your head. So just pretend I’m not here.”

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Squall grumbled. But he indulged the idea. Taking a moment to think. Piecing together the puzzle of wherever his thoughts were trying to go.

“I want this. But....”

“But what?”

Squall sighed.

“With Rinoa there was always something she wanted me to change. To be... I don’t know. Better.” He said slowly. “I’m too cold, or too intense. Too disagreeable. Not fun. I’m trying to figure out what that might be for you so I can fix it before I ruin everything and make you change your mind. Because you make me happy and I’m scared of losing you too.”

The honesty sunk into Zell’s bones like the edge of a buzzsaw. Cooling him down to the marrow. There were so many masks Squall wore, but they all had the same thing in common. They were strong and they were fearless. They couldn’t afford to be otherwise. Not with lives hanging in the balance. But underneath, the fear remained, raw and unrelenting. And here he let Zell see it; a fear of rejection, of mistakes, of causing pain. 

Of being himself. 

They were the same person, underneath it all. 

“Have I ever made you feel like you needed to change?”

“No, but.” Squall’s hands fell to his sides. “No one’s ever wanted all of me.”

A sudden need to look at him became overwhelming. Zell’s touch moved to caress Squall’s cheeks, his hair, his chest, before finding a comforting home on the sides of his neck. Taking him in. Retracing places his mind made maps of years ago. Everything that was so wonderful and complex and unique and beautiful about who Squall was and the person he had become despite all the hardship and responsibility and pain. And there was that deeply private vulnerability in his eyes that he was trusting Zell with again. Like an open wound needing something to stop the blood. Needing someone who understood how to speak his language.

“I do,” Zell said simply. Hell, the only thing he’d ever wanted Squall to change was the love he had for someone else. And that was only because he had wanted it so selfishly for himself. Had wanted Squall to look at him just once like he had looked at Rinoa.

And right now, he was. The moment felt so delicate that the wrong breath could have broken it. Squall’s gaze dragged over Zell’s face like he was searching for some tiny trace of doubt to send it all careening over a cliffside.

But there was none to be found. 

And that took about ten full seconds to process through the muck of self-loathing slowing down traffic in Squall’s mind before Zell was being pulled into the harbor of his arms and kissed. And kissed. And _kissed_. He felt heat shoot all the way down to his toes, and he clung to Squall for sweet life and let him have whatever he wanted. 

And how he _wanted_. Groping hands and bruising need and lips moving desperately against his own. Like he hadn’t known if he would ever get this chance again. Zell ended up flat against the wall with his arms pinned as Squall’s mouth found his jackrabbit pulse and sucked a retaliatory mark against his gasping throat and _oh that is very good._

“You really missed me, huh?” He didn’t try to struggle against the vice-like grip. It was his birthday, damn it. He was allowed to sit back and enjoy it.

“You have no idea,” Squall said with a deep inhale, lacing their fingers together. “I can’t sleep when you’re gone.” 

This would be going down in the books as his favorite birthday, he decided as his collarbones were peppered with kisses. Nothing came close to the feeling of being at Squall’s adoring mercy, caged between strong arms and the dark promise painted on his face. Zell hooked a leg up to pull him closer. Getting what he wanted was intoxicating. It felt like the world was taking pity on him for once and pouring into the cup of his life until it overflowed with light. 

And then Squall slid a hand down his pants and whatever Zell was thinking about politely threw itself into a paper shredder. The paper shredder caught fire, taking the entire building of Zell’s brain down with it. And Squall stoked the flames like the villain he was with slow, meaningful strokes. Zell’s life was a big pile of wonderful ashes and Squall was _smiling._

This was not the unsure (but still painfully hot) person Squall had been the last time they’d fallen into bed together. This was someone else. Pent-up and confident and singularly focused on the task of melting Zell down to a puddle of goo. Plus there was a distinct lack of bed this time, which Zell could honestly get over if Squall kept _god yes please_ touching him like that. His voice was so wrecked it made him blush as he ground out a moan.

_Anywhere, anything, just take me._

“I missed that too,” Squall said, voice low. Shallow thrusts weren’t enough for the hungry need burning holes in his stomach but it was all Zell could do in this position to chase the feeling. “The way you sound. It kept me company while you were gone. When I was lonely and had too much time to spend thinking about how good I know your mouth is.”

Zell whined, scrabbling at the wall for support while Squall pressed his thumb past Zell’s lips. As he wet it with his tongue and watched Squall shiver, there was a tiny thoughtform somewhere in his imagination with a piece of chalk frantically scribbling out elaborate equations and searching for the answer to when and where Squall got such a dirty mouth. 

“I’m not gonna last if you keep - _Hyne_ \- doing that.” His pants were pushed further out of the way, freeing him enough for Squall to stroke in earnest. 

“That was kind of the plan,” Squall teased. Purring in his ear like he was personally put on this earth to torment.

Then, he dropped to his knees. 

And. 

_And._

Listen. There were a lot of things in his life that Zell didn’t know if he’d be able to survive. Spider robots and Galbadian missiles and evil time bending sorceresses and psychopathic terrorists. And sometimes he wondered if it was all worth it. 

But right now? 

Right now he was really fucking glad he had made it to the moment where he got to watch Squall wrap his lips around his cock.

“ _Oh my fucking god_ ,” he groaned embarrassingly loud. His hands flew down to grip Squall’s hair, desperate for something to ground him, and a thrill of adrenaline pulsed in his veins as his gaze flickered to the dark doorway. This was dangerous. So many ways it could go wrong. Absolutely anyone could stumble upon this particular scene.

And yet. 

_Hold up, do I have an exhibition thing? Or does my Squall thing just translate to “genuinely down for anything?” Should I be worried about that?_

Didn’t have much time to ponder on that one though because with a focus he normally reserved for combat, Squall sucked. Slow and smooth, shallow but deliciously steady. Getting the basic idea down before taking it in deeper. Testing the waters for what Zell liked, what made him fall further and faster into a complete blissed out euphoria. And his eyes. Hyne, the look in his eyes as he worked, looking up through his lashes like something straight out of a fantasy. Dark and blue and wanting, like he was completely, hopelessly, achingly in lo-

He barely had time to tug on Squall’s hair in warning before he came. Squall gripped his hips to keep him in as he swallowed, face traveling from pleased to surprised to intrigued. Zell’s knees felt weak. 

_I just got head from a world leader. There’s one for the baby book._

Squall pulled back and wiped his mouth, looking thoughtful. “You know. I don’t know what I thought it would taste like but that wasn’t it.”

And that broke him. Zell couldn’t keep the giggles in. He pulled Squall to his feet and laughed until tears prickled in the corners of his eyes and his stomach ached. And Squall held him through it, smiling and happily nuzzling into Zell’s neck and idly grinding himself against Zell’s hip. As if Zell could possibly forget about the hardness there that he was dying to get his hands on again.

When he finally got it under control, he felt light-headed in the way that only Squall seemed to inflict, like some status ailment he never wanted to become immune to. “You’re going to kill me today.”

“Maybe,” Squall teased, nipping at Zell’s bottom lip playfully. “Do you want to come to bed with me?”

There was no word good enough to describe how enthusiastically he said yes. 

After some adjusting (re: zipping his pants and trying to look like a functional member of society and not like he just got blown in the training grounds, oops) he steered Squall down the safest path out toward the round. This was definitely too good to be true (and if he were looking at his life like a trashy fantasy romance novel, narratively something horrible was definitely going happen soon) but Zell couldn’t find it in him to care. Instead, he let himself be happy. The way Squall took his hand and didn’t let go even when they emerged into A Public Place Where People Could Probably See Them made him feel like he was going to explode into stardust. Like his _emotions_ were aroused. A heart-on? An affection erection? He didn’t have the brainpower to think of a clever name for it right now. Too distracted by the flush of Squall’s cheeks and the way he pulled Zell toward him when he got too far away, like he couldn’t stand being apart for even a second.

When they got to the elevator, it dinged in warning and Squall pulled him quickly behind the palm plant near the doors. Irvine walked out, cradling a coffee and whistling a tune. He took a few steps forward before he stopped. Tilted his head. Turned to look directly at them. Palm leaves draped over Zell’s head like a bad hat and Squall was wide-eyed and looking in any direction that avoided eye contact. 

“S’up,” Zell said casually. 

Irvine looked between them. To their clasped hands. Back to Zell. 

He took a long drink. 

“Gentlemen,” he said, tipping his hat. “Great party.”

And that was it. He moved along. Going somewhere away from the noise upstairs and paying them no extra mind. 

“Fuck,” Squall said, sighing in relief. Zell could practically feel his heart-rate pounding through his fingertips. 

“That’s the idea,” he giggled suggestively.

But Squall rolled his eyes and swatted his wandering hands away. “I forgot there was a whole party between us and my bedroom. There’s no way we’ll be able to sneak by.”

“You didn’t think about that before seducing me? Some tactician.”

“In my defense, if I thought our talk would go this well I would have planned it differently.”

_........?_

_.............!!!!_

Everything clicked into place. 

“It was _you_.” Taking himself out of the surreal moment of he and Squall discussing where they could get away with fucking (Hyne, his life was so good today), his thoughts caught up with him and it was like a little record player scratched to a halt. Selphie had told him it wasn’t her idea, but he didn’t even consider that it was Squall’s. Because he hated parties. Why would the king of _‘please don’t talk to me, I’m just here to drink’_ willingly invite a bunch of people to gather right outside his door? “You threw me a fucking party.”

Squall blinked. “I mean. I had some help. But. Yeah.”

The gift was one thing. One kind and thoughtful and _expensive_ thing. But this took it to the next level. This was Squall going out of his way to do something that he didn’t like just because it would make Zell happy. And that was fucking incredible.

New plan then. Zell practically dragged him back down the stairs and toward his dorm. If he didn’t get Squall undressed in the next five minutes he would consider it a deeply personal failure. Once they got there and the door was closed he practically pounced, pulling his sweater over his head and showering Squall with kisses. Swift fingers made short work of the buttons on Squall’s shirt and in the back of his mind he wondered how long he could talk him into staying in bed tomorrow. There were a few years worth of feelings he needed to catch up on.

But before he could dive into that delicious line of thought, Squall twisted them and caged Zell in his arms, bare chest pressing hot against Zell’s back. “Why are you trying to do all the work on your birthday?” He growled in Zell’s ear and _oh hello, very hot Command voice, it’s so good to hear from you._

“You know me,” he said, breathless and wiggling his hips back tauntingly. The arms around him tightened. “Patience has never been my forte.”

In a blur, he was pushed down onto the bed and _goddamn_ being manhandled had him rock hard again. He reached to rifle through his side table for some lube and a condom while Squall stripped. And what a fucking sight. Gorgeous cock standing at attention, stroking himself idly while he watched Zell shimmy out of the rest of his clothes. 

“Tell me this is what you want,” Zell said, taking a sober moment to get Squall’s consent. Someday he would get Squall into the habit of asking for what he needed. Until then, Zell would go to the ends of the earth to make sure he felt comfortable. “I know you haven’t done this part before and I can do the prep but I want to make sure - “

Squall climbed onto the bed and captured Zell’s lips fiercely and Zell floated on an electric current that ricocheted excitedly across the sky. “I love it when you do that,” Squall said, tenderly tracing the lines of Zell’s tattoo. “Yes. I want this.”

Nodding, Zell got his fingers slick. Then, keeping his eyes locked with Squall’s, he spread his legs. And Hyne it had been a while, hadn’t it? Since he’d been taken like this? Sex with Seifer had been quick and rough but this was like he had been shot into space and crash landed onto another planet. It was so _intimate_. Squall sat back and watched Zell work himself open, still and heavy-lidded. To be seen like this was so unbelievably personal and he felt like he was baring his soul. _This is what I like,_ it said. _This is what I want you to do to me._

_....Yeah, I definitely have an exhibition thing._

When he added a second finger, Squall let out a shaky breath that Zell held onto like a lifeline. His face felt hot but he was too turned on to look away from how Squall drank him in. Memorizing the way Zell’s fingers scissored and stretched, making room for the beauty of Squall’s cock to fit inside. Firm hands rested on his knees and Zell let his head fall back against the pillow and pushed in deeper. And now that they were somewhere private, he didn’t try to keep quiet. No one had to tell him twice to be loud. Especially not if Squall liked it. 

He was aware of the sound of the cap popping open and the squeeze of the bottle, but it didn’t register in his mind until Squall’s hand caught his wrist and stilled the slow drilling of his fingers.

“Can I?” Squall asked, so heavy with desire it felt like an anchor around Zell’s ankles, pulling him under.

“God, yes.” Zell eased out and propped himself up on his elbows. Watching the way Squall’s eyes dragged over the muscular lines of his thighs. 

And then, slowly and carefully, two of Squall’s slick fingers replaced his own. 

His mouth fell open into a soundless gasp. It was gentle and insistent and surreal and _more_ , he needed more. Zell had to fist the sheets to stop his hands from grasping his cock and relieving some of the ache because then it would be over and he wanted to live in this moment forever. 

“Good?” Squall questioned. 

“Understatement.” Zell threw an arm over his face, embarrassed by the mewling sounds coming out of his mouth as Squall curved his fingers. “One more.”

“Magic word?”

“ _Please_ , you son of a bitch.”

With a flustered grin, Squall pressed a third finger in and let Zell get accustomed before experimenting more with rhythm and depth. Every time Zell gasped he looked like he was making a mental note in some internal scientific journal and if it wasn’t overloading his brain Zell would have laughed. 

“We’re good,” He whimpered instead, too impatient, too needy, too warm. “Want you. _Need_ you.”

Some emotional wall broke down inside him and Squall grabbed Zell by the hip bones, dragging him roughly toward the edge of the bed in a motion that sent a thrill down Zell’s spine. The condom was rolled down Squall’s length and he gave Zell a look that could have melted the heart right out of him. He was the conductor of a chorus spinning melodies into the gaps between Zell’s ribs, like a spider weaving a soft and silken web. And Zell felt the song everywhere. Chasing shadows into light. 

He anchored his legs over Squall’s thighs. Inviting him in. 

_Please, please, please._

Their mouths crashed together. And in a smooth thrust, Squall’s cock was pushing past that tight ring of muscle to bury inside him.

The burn was bittersweet and wonderful and Zell closed his eyes against it, so all he had to fill his mind was Squall. It was like everything came back from nothing all at once and the world was made of technicolor sound. Like a piece of him he didn’t know was missing finally washed back up to shore and he could pick it up like a seashell and hear the ocean inside. “ _Squall_ ,” He said, again and again like a prayer against his lips. “Yes, Squall, _yes._ ” 

He knew for a fact he wasn’t going to last long. Not like this, not getting what he had wanted for so long. His fingernails dragged down the pale expanse of Squall’s back and he rolled his hips around the cock stretching him open to entice some movement from his companion. Squall stuttered out a few breaths, overwhelmed with the tight heat he fit so perfectly into.

“Fucking hell,” Squall breathed into the sensitive spot where Zell’s jaw met his ear. He eased in further until there wasn’t space between them and Zell wrapped his legs around Squall’s back to keep him right there. Reveling in the feeling of being so completely connected.

Overwhelmingly, he felt like he was right where he belonged. Where he was always meant to be. It was too much and not enough and he wanted to drown in it. Squall looked into his eyes with pure naked desire. 

“Move,” Zell said gruffly.

It took Squall a second to reconnect with his brain before he started thrusting. Clearly just as out of his mind with need. Zell cried out in bliss, gripping Squall’s shoulders for support. 

“You have no idea what you do to me,” Squall groaned, angling deeper and hitting harder and _more please more_. Like Zell’s body was a matchbox he kept striking to find the flame. And it felt so good to be filled. To know the dull ache would find him tomorrow to remind him of what they did. To know that it was real. That, despite the scars covering his body, someone like Squall still had the audacity to want him so much. 

“Show me,” Zell murmured against Squall’s skin, wanting to open up his chest and trap this feeling there like a shadow box he could hang on the walls of his heart. “Give me everything. Please.”

With a growl, Squall hiked Zell’s leg up and his hips snapped forward sharply. Between them, he grasped Zell’s neglected cock and gave it a few firm pumps while he fucked him hard into the mattress. Zell saw stars. The intensity made him feel feral. He clawed at the sheets, trying to get a hold of himself, to make it last, to - 

“Do it,” Squall commanded.

That flipped a switch. Zell didn’t have a choice. His body reacted immediately, clenching and coming and grinding out a loud and ragged moan. Squall gasped at the sudden pressure as white heat spilled down his fingers and Zell’s whole body shook. Two more quick thrusts and he followed Zell down, holding onto his sides with bruising force as he rode out the heights of his orgasm. 

Briefly, when his mental capacity came back, Zell took a poll in his mind and concluded that this was something they were very good at together. 

_Happy birthday to me._

It took a little longer for his body to come back to itself. Squall eased out carefully with a soft grunt before pulling Zell into his arms. Sweaty and sated and peaceful. Zell felt more normal than he had in ages. 

That was another thing Squall was very good at. Bringing him home. 

“You still alive back there?” Zell said after a while. 

“Still alive,” Squall confirmed, muffled by the pillow he was catching his breath into. Zell was sticky and definitely needed a shower but being held settled something inside him that had been off for a while, like a warm and soft blanket on a cold day. 

He took a moment to admire Squall’s arm when it stretched for something on the nightstand. Chiseled muscle, firm hands. Chalk it up to the post-coital bliss but Squall was just a fucking masterpiece. 

“What’s this?” Squall asked, holding something small and metallic in his palm. It was the fish Selphie had given Zell. It felt appropriate for Squall to be holding it now. 

Past Zell’s head would be spinning if he knew how Future Zell’s day had gone. “Just a little collector’s piece,” he lied. 

Squall made a thoughtful sound as he put it back down with care.

“We should probably go back.” Zell stole Squall’s hand back. “Might look suspicious if we’re both gone all night.”

“I don’t care,” Squall scoffed lazily. “If I have to choose between seeing Rinoa and being in bed with you, I’ll pick bed any day.”

_Ah. Shit._

Zell turned and caressed Squall’s jaw. 

This was not going to be a fun conversation.

“Hey,” he started. “I need to tell you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday indeed. I hope you like this chapter, it was a tough one for me to get done for some reason. Let’s discuss Squall “I Have Decided My Love Language Is All Of Them” Leonhart. 
> 
> Something’s up with that watch probably though, right? Who knows.  
> (I do. ;) )
> 
> Writing Playlist: Wonderful (Solo) - Lianne La Havas


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got something a little different for you. Thought it might be nice to get a little behind-the-scenes look at our boys and their wonderful friends before we head into some big plot stuff. Enjoy!

Irvine Kinneas was not a stupid man.

He maybe wasn’t the most motivated. Struggled with loneliness most of his life. And had some trouble in the past with keeping cool under pressure. Hell, who didn’t? The world was a mess and it was hard being the ones who had to fix it all the damn time. 

But when Squall finally emerged from whatever cave he had holed himself up in to come hunting for Irvine in the early morning a few days before Zell’s birthday? 

He wasn’t stupid and it wasn’t hard to connect the dots. 

And Selphie, bless her heart, she was everyone’s confidant. And she wore the role like an old cloak covering the shoulders of the village wisewoman. She knew everything because everyone _told_ her everything. It wasn’t Irvine’s fault they forgot he was always sittin’ right there next to her. When Squall came to ask for advice, and when Zell came to ask for advice, and when they both wandered around each other like two lovesick dogs who didn’t know whether they were gonna fuck each other or fight each other or fight other people _for_ each other. And he didn’t mean to eavesdrop. Honest. Just right place, right time and a brain enough to recognize their problems were the same problem.

He decided not to tell Squall that though, as the man paced back and forth in front of Irvine’s door too loudly at ass-thirty in the goddamn morning. No, that would stress him out. And if he was coming to Irvine of all people for something, it was distinctly because Irvine could keep it cool and stay chill. 

Straight up, Squall never asked for help. So it must be important and the most obviously important thing to him these days was Zell. Which, you know, again, Irvine wouldn’t say he saw that coming like a freight train on a dark and quiet night but like. Come on. 

Anyway. It took about twenty full minutes for Squall to knock. Irvine knew because he had time to wake up, get fully dressed, and sit on the end of his bed twiddling his thumbs for a while before it actually happened. And hell, if he hadn’t been awake already that sharp sound would have done the trick. 

“Yeahuh?” He called with a touch of faux drowsiness for show. Next to him, Selphie giggled. He swatted playfully at her to keep quiet. 

“Irvine, are you busy?” Squall sounded crisp. He wasn’t a morning person, so that meant he probably hadn’t slept much. Probably also meant he was going to bite everyone’s heads off all day too, but Irvine was a man of the greater good. He could deal if it meant helping a buddy.

“Normal people are sleepin’ this time of day, y’know.”

Selphie sat up and planted a smooch on his cheek. “Have fun! And be nice!”

Irvine smiled and waved her off. “Aww, come on Selph, I’m always nice.” 

“Liar.” She smacked his ass as he stood before burrowing back under the covers. “Keep me updated!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Irvine braced himself and swung the door open. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s early, but I - “ Squall blinked in surprise. “Oh. Wow. You got dressed really fast.”

“It’s a sniper thing,” Irvine said cooly. The perk of being the only gunman in their merry band was that he could pretty much blame everything on being a sniper. Slept in and showed up late to a meeting? Sniper thing. Needed every Friday off? For gun practice or whatever obviously. Somehow always got out of tutoring? Definitely a sniper thing, needed time to focus on shooting stuff. No one questioned it outright and Selphie only called his bullshit in private because she was perfect and she knew it meant he got to spend more time with her anyway so it worked out for everyone. 

“Whatcha need me for, Capitano?” He immediately started walking, because otherwise Squall would probably get stuck in an anxiety trench and it was best to just keep moving. 

“I’m a Commander, not a Captain.”

_Don’t say it._

_.....Nah, go ahead and say it._

“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

He could feel the glare.

“I have a couple...errands to run. And I needed some help with them.”

“Errands, huh?” Irvine stuffed his hands in his pockets, giving Squall a side-eye. “Seems like a Selphie day is what you’re looking for. I can get her if you - “

“No! N-no, that’s fine,” Squall stammered. “We uhh. Don’t spent a lot of time together, you and I. We need...it’s...team bonding....?

That was so damn pathetic it almost made him sad. He decided to have some mercy.

“Riiiiiight. So what you’re saying is that you’ve got a love problem and you came to the expert.” 

“...Forget it.”

“Hooooold on there, champ,” he drawled, grabbing Squall’s arm before the man was able to squirm away. “I’m just giving you a hard time. Sure, let’s ‘team bond’ or whatever you need to call it.”

He started walking again, keeping a brisk pace. Right now, momentum was what mattered. Keep going. Make him talk. People gave Squall a lot of shit for his social incompetence but god damn if the man wasn’t incredible under pressure. Never bowed, always did what needed to be done. Just had to get him to stop thinking and start doing.

Eventually he would open up about it. Momentum, baby. Irvine had all day. “So what’s the agenda?” 

“Right, so,” Squall pulled a comically large bundle of papers out of his pocket. They were covered in notes. “I need some supplies.”

“What kind of supplies?” Irvine turned them toward the garage. A shopping trip then. Hmm. He could work with that.

“Here, just...” A list was stuffed into Irvine’s hands. Squall’s handwriting was a neat and tidy cursive with a lot of scribbles and rewrites. There were a few columns to his list, for the different shops they’d need to visit. “Balamb Town’s selection is more limited than what I’d like so I figured we could hop the train to Timber and - “

“Looks like party supplies to me,” Irvine remarked. Lights, candles, ribbon, photo prints, balloons. Something about it felt very personal, but Irvine was nosy as hell and if Squall was gonna drag him along and ask his opinion he needed some insight. 

“They are,” Squall said tersely. Then, he sighed and did his favorite Squall Exasperation Pose. “Alright look. I fucked up something important and I need to make it better. So I’m making an effort to do something special and this is completely outside my comfort zone and I didn’t want to bother Selphie because she’s planning her big thing and I just _really_ need you to not make this a big deal.”

Nodding sympathetically, Irvine understood. This was definitely about Zell. Boy had it so bad.

“I can try. Just point and shoot, pal.”

“..........”

“Get it. Because I’m - “

“I am this close to hitting you.”

Squall took the lead and hopped into a car while Irvine pored over the list. Stoic as ever, dear leader didn’t say much while he gassed the engine and took them down the road toward Balamb Town and the station. Gave Irvine time to think. He slid his phone out of his pocked and typed out a message to Selphie.

_Big man’s got me doing errands_

**Ooooo for what?**

_Said I’m not allowed to ask, but it’s definitely party stuff_

**WHAT**

**omg**

**What is he getting? does it suck?**

**I can’t believe he didn’t ask me!!!**

**I’m trying not to be sad because he probably didn’t want to bother me which is nice of him but still! ;_;**

**do you have a picture of the list**

**it HAS to be Zell’s birthday right??**

**I have a million things to do today that I’m about to drop into the TRASH because i am officially obsessed with this**

**hyne’s ass I’m gonna lose my mind, where are you guys going first**

“.....Does your phone always blow up like that this early in the morning?” Squall asked suspiciously. 

Irvine grinned. “Can’t help bein’ so popular.”

_Sefie I love ya but you know he’ll freak if you show up, he’s already in a mood._

** >:|**

_Don’t worry that brilliant head one bit. I can handle it. Learned from the best._

**:)**

They parked and walked the main road toward the station and Irvine didn’t miss the way Squall’s eyes lingered too long on the door to Zell’s mom’s house. And it wasn’t just an _‘oh, a familiar place’_ glance. It was a Glance. Probably didn’t even know he was doing it. 

“Need to stop for somethin’?” Irvine asked pointedly. 

“Well.....Yeah, actually. Can you... go get tickets?”

“Sure thing, boss man.” He held out his hand expectantly. If Squall was gonna drag him around, he wasn’t getting stuck with the fare. Rolling his eyes, Squall tossed Irvine his wallet and Irvine politely turned his back and headed up to the station. Let the man do what he needs to do without someone breathing down his neck about it. 

“Two please,” he said to the too-eager attendant making eyes at him from behind the window. As he flipped Squall’s wallet open to hunt for his SeeD card, he saw something familiar tucked away behind Squall’s ID. It looked like the patterned corner of a Triple Triad card. 

Squall always traveled with his deck, but it was weird to keep one in his wallet, right?

Hmm. 

There was a moral dilemma to be had here. He valued Squall’s privacy, but didn’t he just say how goddamn nosy he was? That him and Selphie combined could crack any mystery like two of the world’s most meddlesome detectives? He didn’t want to pry but it was like......right there staring at him. Just asking to be looked at. And it probably wasn’t something major. Just a favorite card maybe. 

Favorite cards said a lot about a person. 

....One quick little peek probably wouldn’t hurt nothin’. 

Carefully, he slid the card out. Took a long look as the tickets were printed. 

Huh. 

Now where did he get that? 

“Have a nice day!!” The attendant said, sliding the tickets across the counter and deflating a little when Irvine didn’t look up. He whipped out his phone again. 

_Did you know Squall keeps a card in his wallet?_

**Like a Triple Triad card? No?**

**why are you in his wallet, nosy**

_You’re gonna die when I tell you who it is_

Squall was making his way toward the station, scribbling at his page and muttering to himself. The sea-salt wind played softly in his hair. Couple more months and it might be as long as Irvine’s. The style made him look older, but Squall had never really looked young. Even as a kid, he was all furrowed brows and frowns. And the first day they met (or, met again) in Galbadia, Irvine had a feeling that those eyes had seen more heartbreak than he ever cared to know. But sometimes when Squall got thoughtful, he did look young. Thoughtful Squall was different than Brooding Squall. His face was smooth, for one. And he didn’t hunch so much. Almost like his thoughts were carried on balloons instead of anchors. Levity versus gravity. 

And right now, he was Thoughtful. Young and determined, unburdened by doubt. It was the same look he’d had on his face when they saw him coming up the tracks toward Esthar, having carried Rinoa for miles on his back across the ocean from Fisherman’s Horizon. Squall didn’t like himself very much, but when he cared for someone else, it ran so deep into his blood that his heart took over and gave him the strength to be sure of his decisions. To shut off his mind and be brave.

The two of them had never been the closest of friends. Despite their group being the best thing that ever happened to him, Irvine had always felt like he lived somewhere just outside the inner circle of Squall’s friendship, unlike Zell or Quistis or even Selphie. They were the Balamb Bunch, even though Selphie was technically a transfer. There was a damn strong bond that formed with people who went through the SeeD exam together. It was understandable. And the distance wasn’t anything he figured Squall had ever done on purpose. They had their own kind of connection. And thanks to Squall, Irvine was a bonafide SeeD now. After saving the world, the Garden Command team figured he’d proven himself more than enough for the rank (even though he still took the written exam to prove a point). They just weren’t the type to like, hang out one-on-one a lot. 

But. 

Zell, Selphie, Quistis. None of them were here right now. Squall had asked for Irvine’s help. So, what did Squall need from him that they couldn’t offer?

Maybe it was the same reason he brought Irvine of all people to the Lunar Base with him. Squall needed someone to remind him why he was doing this. Someone to help him figure out how to get out of his head and run after what he loved.

“Train’s comin’,” Irvine said gently. “Get what you needed?”

“Yeah.” In his pocket, Irvine’s phone was buzzing frantically. Squall gave him a flat look. “Do you need to answer that?”

“I’ll get to it when I get to it.” Irvine waved his hand and grabbed Squall by the shoulders, guiding him up the stairs to the platforms. “Now, I know you said you don’t want a lot of fuss - “

Squall sighed. “Get it over with.”

“All I’m saying is that I can’t help ya if I don’t have a few tiny details.” The conductor took their tickets and ushered them on board. Irvine took the seat by the window because he knew Squall liked the aisle. Made him feel less trapped. “I’m a no judgement zone, I mean it. Whatever it is, I won’t say a word.”

Squall fixed him with one of those steady stares he was so good at and Irvine had to stop himself from flinching. “Anything? No judgement?”

“Absolutely.”

“What if I said I wanted to get back with Rinoa?”

Irvine opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. Then did a kind of half-smile-half-grimace sort of thing? It wasn’t pretty. “Well. Uhhhhh. You know, I feel like you’re fucking with me but I can’t tell.”

Squall snorted. 

“You are. Okay. Cool. Love that energy.” Irvine’s phone buzzed again and he huffed in annoyance. “Sorry, can you give me just a minute?” 

He got out of earshot before answering and as soon as he did, Selphie was ranting. “Did you throw your phone into the ocean??”

“I was _busy_ ,” Irvine complained. “I gotta go, I’m on the verge of a breakthrough here.”

“I guarantee you’re not,” she deadpanned. “Tell me what the card is!”

“You know damn well what it is.”

A squeal erupted from the other end of the line. “I know, but I can’t believe it! I wonder how long he’s had it? This is so good. Do you know how long I’ve had to deal with Zell’s pining? Irvy, this _has_ to go well. What are we gonna do?”

“What do you mean ‘we’? First of all, they’re grown men and they can take care of themselves - “

“You’re honestly going to tell me that Squall doesn’t need a push? Never once in his life has he needed _several_ someones to help him out? He’s just a smooth operator and can seal this deal all by himself?”

Irvine pursed his lips. “Alright, you made your point.”

The doors closed for departure and Irvine heard the overhead bell chime.

Then, he heard an echo of that same sound over the phone right before Selphie cleared her throat loudly. 

That little snoop.

“Heyyyyy,” he said, looking down the corridor. “Weird question. You wouldn’t be going anywhere right now, would you?”

“W-what do you mean? Of course not! I’m still in bed. Obviously.” She yawned dramatically. “In fact, I should go, I’m super tired.”

“Uh huh.” He slunk toward the seats closer to the back of the car. It was relatively empty this time of morning so he didn’t have to look too hard. “That’s funny, because it sounded kind of loud for a second there.”

“Oh! That was the TV! I’m watching a.... documentary? About trains! Funny coincidence, talk to you later!”

He found her sitting alone in the very last row frantically ending their call. She was hunched against the window with the collar of a trench coat pulled up high to cover the bottom of her face and the whole look screamed cartoon super spy. 

“Come here often?” He purred as he flopped down next to her and kicked his legs up on the seat across from them. 

Selphie yelped. “No! You’re - it’s - ! I’m not here!”

“Where the hell’d you get this?” He poked at her collar teasingly. He had absolutely never seen this jacket before and he suspected she had bought it just now for her sleuthing. 

It looked distractingly good on her and it was giving him Ideas. 

“Shhhhh!” She leaned over him and looked anxiously toward where Squall was sitting. “You’re gonna give me away.”

“Selph, there’s no way he’s not gonna notice you tailin’ us. You’re gonna have to do better than a coat and some sunglasses.“

Selphie grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. “Can you focus?! We need a plan! I will not let that man throw a bad party and I will _not_ let my best friend sleep alone on his birthday. They need each other and I! Demand! Romance! Candles! Friendship and love! This is the most important thing in the world right now and I need your head in the game!!”

Irvine blinked. It wasn’t like he could ever forget how intense Selphie could be, but damn if she didn’t surprise him sometimes. “....Okay?”

“Fantastic!” The way she smiled and bat her lashes at him almost made this worth it. “I’ll send you some things to add to his list and make sure he gets stuff that matches, and oh! Don’t forget to ask about presents! And get back up there before he gets suspicious!” She booted him out of the seat with her foot and he narrowly avoided falling on his ass. “Love you, you’re doing great!”

Hyne, she was crazy.

He loved her _so much._

Squall gave him a look when Irvine reappeared. “Everything okay?”

“Peachy! Don’t worry about it.” He folded his hands together and leaned forward pointedly. “Now, about those details...” 

The questions were as careful as he could make them. Nothing too obvious but still enough to go on. Irvine was slowly working his way up to the bigger stuff. Like what the damn occasion was, for one. Even if Irvine didn’t already suspect this was a big gesture for Zell, the guest list would have given it away. Not the most subtle thing inviting Zell’s closest friends to the bridge on the night of Zell’s birthday. They were all smart decisions, if he was being honest. Zell hadn’t been a huge fan of crowds since they got him back and he clearly felt safest with the people who knew him best. So it was smaller and more intimate than a rowdy birthday bash. Squall had talked Ma into baking and he had already asked Quistis about making sure ‘everyone’ would be back from their assignments on time. ‘A couple other items’ had been taken care of which Irvine assumed was code for gifts, but Squall was damn vague about what it was and where he got it. The only clue he gave was that Ellone had been to Garden to visit and helped him ‘sort a few things out’, and that was really nothing to go on aside from the weirdly tired and distant tone of voice he had all of a sudden. But if Squall needed some secrets to get through this, he could have them. 

Regardless of what it was, Irvine decided to give Squall a little more credit. He had a better handle on things than he let on.

Or so it seemed, until they were getting off the train and Irvine brought up the wardrobe line of inquiry.

“I don’t know. I was just going to wear what I usually wear.” Squall said like the most clueless man on the planet. If Selphie had heard him from where she was lurking behind them she would have fainted. 

“Well that just won’t do at all,” Irvine clicked his tongue in disapproval as he steered Squall toward the tailor. Dressing well was the trick to any successful endeavor. Take it from a man who wore a crop top and a cowboy hat for a living. Aesthetic was everything. Squall had a good foundation they could build on (the leather and black thing worked well for him) but he just wasn’t living up to his full heart-throb potential. And if this was the night to make or break whatever he had going on with everyone’s second favorite spaz, the outfit had to be top notch. 

The key would be balance. Pick something Squall would feel comfortable in but would also accentuate the assets. For someone with the bone structure Squall had, the man could wear a trash bag and still make someone swoon but damn it, Irvine was aiming to overachieve. Leather pants were a given. Ditch the belts and keep it simple, go for a clean silhouette. As far as tops went, that’s where Irvine had to think hard. Layering would be too distracting, and a tasteful amount of skin was important. Squall stood awkwardly in the corner of the shop while Irvine pulled options and piled them into a dressing room. And if a skinny arm shot out from the middle of a rounder to hand Irvine the occasional shirt to add to the pile, Squall didn’t seem to notice.

Trying everything on took a while. Selphie came up with a quick system to express her varying degrees of approval from the table she had migrated to hiding under. One tug on his jacket meant bad, two meant good. For his part, Squall clearly hated this. His face was flushed and he was too embarrassed to say a lot but he wasn’t giving up and that was a good sign. Surprising, but good. He was trusting that Irvine knew what he was talking about and damn if that didn’t give him the warm and fuzzies. 

When Squall walked out in the white dress shirt Irvine had picked out, Irvine had to cough to cover Selphie’s gasp and frantic coat-pulling. Apparently nearly ripping the damn thing meant this was her favorite. Somewhere nearby, the associate behind the counter whispered a faint “holy shit.” And Irvine agreed. Plunging neckline, rolled sleeves, and it fit him like a glove. Simple, but excellent.

“How’s it feel?” Irvine stood and gave him a full 360, carefully taking in the whole look.

Squall avoided his reflection. “It’s not too much? It feels like it’s too much.”

Irvine clapped his hands on Squall’s shoulders reassuringly. “If I were a betting man - and I absolutely am - I’d say this is gonna get you places.”

“I just don’t know if it’s me - “

“Squall,” he drawled, turning serious. “Listen to me. _Whoever it is_ you’re hoping to impress... he’s gonna take one look at you and melt.”

Their eyes met in the mirror. 

Irvine realized what he said. 

And he stopped himself from making the correction. Decided not to give Squall an escape route unless he asked for one. 

Irvine didn’t know what he was expecting from Squall in that moment. A lash-out, maybe. Some insistence that it wasn’t like that. A nervous laugh and some stumbled-over sentences to quickly change the subject. But none of that was what he got. Instead, Squall’s shoulders slumped. Like he just dropped something very heavy. 

“I’ll go with this then,” he said quietly. And then he went to change. 

Irvine stood there dumbly and settled into the knowledge that he was probably one of the first people Squall had sort-of come out to.

He also decided that he was going do everything in his power to make this work. Because Squall deserved to be happy. And if even a tiny bit of that relied on Irvine’s role in it, he wouldn’t let Squall down for a minute. When they paid, Squall seemed lighter than before. And as they were leaving the shop, he called loudly to the room, “We’re going for flowers next, Selph. You’re welcome to come along.”

Watching Selphie meekly pull herself out of a pile of sweaters was the highlight of Irvine’s week. He didn’t tell her what Squall had said. Wasn’t his thing to tell. And she knew better than to ask. And as the big day got closer and they finalized their plans, things were looking good.

They split into two teams the night of the party. Selphie went to get Zell ready and Irvine’s job was to keep Squall calm. Which was like, a massive undertaking. He paced and fidgeted and Irvine had to stop him from making a break for the safety of his office about four different times. Eventually he trapped him in the corner of the room and got a drink in his hand and that seemed to do the trick.

But when Zell walked in? Well, that changed everything. 

Irvine watched Squall go Thoughtful again. Like even just seeing Zell was a balm on his nerves, cutting the rope to the anchors at his ankles and letting him float to the top of the water toward the sun. He toyed with the ribbon on the small box he had wrapped and looked like he didn’t remember if he was supposed to breathe in or out next. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” Irvine said as he backed away, doubting Squall even heard him. And a few minutes later, he watched on like a proud dad as Squall went to make his move.

“We’re good at this,” he threw an arm around Selphie’s waist and pulled her against him. “I’m thinkin’ we start a business.”

“I agree! But first I’m thinking we spend the next hour getting trashed.”

And he really couldn’t argue with that logic. Selphie was the only person who had ever been able to drink him under the table and he was feeling up to that challenge tonight. Somehow he ended up with cake on his face and his hair had come loose and him and Selphie took bets as they watched Quistis arguing with someone nearby. The voice sounded really familiar.

When he looked closer, Irvine determined it was Grant.

Huh. Had they invited him?

Wait. If he was here, that meant - 

“Oh no,” Selphie squeaked. Irvine whipped his head around in time to see Rinoa had cornered Zell. 

“Did you invite her?” Irvine whispered urgently. “Who’s bad idea was that?”

“I mean, I didn’t _not_ invite her. I think I mentioned something about it when I saw her yesterday but I didn’t even think...”

Zell’s face went white. Whatever they were talking about was clearly uncomfortable. Rinoa pulled him into a stiff hug and he made desperate eye contact with Selphie. In an instant, she morphed into a full blown mama bear.

“Hold my drink,” she said ferociously before she grabbed a plate and barreled toward the crisis like a bullet from a gun. “Zell!! Birthday cake!!!”

Irvine took some time to reflect after that. There had been a time after Ultimecia when he didn’t think things would ever go back to normal. Wouldn’t have time to play match-maker or enjoy parties or be with the people he loved. And he was so glad to have been wrong. This little family was all he’d ever had. It meant something to see it thrive. 

Some time later, Irvine swiped a coffee and kissed the love of his life and snuck out early to get some writing done. Selphie was the only one who knew about the journal he’d been keeping. Since he was the one with the best memory of their bunch, he’d made it his personal project to get as much of the big stuff down as he could, just in case. Some things were too important to forget. And tonight felt like something he wanted to make sure they remembered. No matter how it turned out, it was important.

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open and he took a few steps before something made him stop. A sound like leaves rustling. He tilted his head to listen. Then, he turned and was met with the sight of Squall and Zell. Their hands were clasped and Squall’s hair was disheveled and Zell was half hiding in a plant and looked like if he was any happier he would shoot off like a star into the sky. 

“S’up,” Zell said, trying to sound way more chill than he looked.

Irvine took a long drink to hide his smile. 

“Gentlemen.” He tipped his hat. “Great party.”

And you know? Irvine couldn’t claim to know the future. 

But he was not a stupid man. 

And he had a feeling it was going to turn out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Wow she really wrote an entire Irvine chapter instead of letting us hear from Squall after that painful business with Ellone, what is wrong with her, what is she hiding” - you guys probably. Also it is my personal headcanon that Selphie is the queen of text bombing. She just has so many thoughts.
> 
> Hope you’re staying healthy and well! Thanks for sticking with me and for the comments. You’re helping me stay sane while I’m cooped up at home. All my love.
> 
> Writing playlist: Everlong (Acoustic) - Foo Fighters


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